Dammit all to hell. Why in the world did wolves keep calling him into the most mud covered part of his pack. He had three lands for crying out loud, but they just had to pick the rapids. He knew this caller though, they had once held an alliance when she ruled Ebony. If it were a stranger he would have ignored the call for sure this time. With a rumbling sigh he hung his head, pulling himself through the mud again. He took the long way, scouting the very edges of his territory to avoid the worst of the mud. By the time Katja was in sight, his legs, belly, and chest were covered in mud. It felt like it was dragging him down, and he paused far enough away from her to shake. Wouldn't want to cover his guest in mud, no matter how tempting the thought was. Trying to keep his grumpy look off of his face, Bass dipped his head to the woman. "Katja, it's been awhile. How have you been?" he asked. He stayed standing, not wanting to get any more mud on him than he had to.
