Otatso Wetlands get up from there

She’d wanted the duck.

She didn’t get the duck.

Instead, when she jolted forward to grab it, she tripped over something and was sent head over tail into the muck. The duck, unphased, waddled away.

Lonesome Dove gave a short huff of mud from her nostrils, the coywolf gathering her lanky limbs beneath her and lifting up.

Whats the-oh! She had started, only to turn around and find some corpse looking dude was hanging out behind her. Ewww, had she tripped over that? She shook out her paws.

Hey, you can’t just lay here. Are you dead? She asked, nostrils flared as she took in the wounds across the thing in front of her. The blood made her think he was, but the raise and fall of his chest made her think not.

You made me scare off my duck. She lowered her chest to the mud, ever so slowly reaching out with a paw to poke at the man, before trying to pull up an eyelid.

If he was dead, he wouldn’t mind if she nibbled on him right?