gross

Of all the wolves in Boreas and all the places on said continent, why Chaos had not spent more time at a place as fascinatingly morbid as the tar pits he could not even fathom. Though maybe it was the tarry stench in the air, mixed with au d' death from the myriad creatures who'd gotten stuck, died, and had not yet sunk beneath the bubbling black surface.

Chaos himself was careful to avoid coming within slipping distance of any of the pools, taking to heart the warning of the dead elk staring up out of one of the first pools he'd come across. Not today, death. Despite his entirely reasonable caution, Chaos evinced no fear as he meandered his way along the paths between pools, occasionally stopping to peer at some particularly gruesome spectacle. He was glad he hadn't brought Legion this far. As important as it was for the yearlings to get introduced to things like this safely, he didn't think that trying to keep track of them and the rest of the pack trying to camp in such an inhospitable place would count anywhere near "safe." Yikes.