When You're Strange

“Adaptability is a virtue cher.” He purred in response and flicked the muck from the end of his tail carelessly. “But seein’ how you are- as you put it- not a native, why don’t we find somewhere dryer where we can carry on our palaver.” He said, grinning from ear to ear. He fully intended to bring him back to the stone staircase leading to his den but whether or not he would ask Dumois to use his talents still remained to be seen. Without waiting for a response he began to wade through the sludge and stagnant water, heading toward the caverns near the swamp’s edge. The den he had made for himself no doubt consisted of an unused chamber of the cave, but its entrance; a large tree with gnarled roots sitting on top of a shelf of boulders, could only be accessed through the swamp. “So tell me Ash- you don’t mind if I call you ash do you?- What brings you to my lovely land of ‘squish’?” He asked without waiting to find out if his companion didn’t mind his nickname or not. Even if he hadn’t it was only fair after being referred to as a blackberry.

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