ain't no tiptoe through the tulips here

As she stood there debating what to do a voice came to her across the mire. She lifted her head and turned sightless eyes in the stranger's direction. The voice was strong but lacked the timbre of maturity. Wherever he was coming from it didn't sound like he was struggling with the mud like she had as she could hear his soft rhythm steps and able to note the ease with which they fell. Oh to be sighted in a quag of mire. If there was ever a time to allow herself some envy now was it.

"I suppose," she mused saucily after a moment's thought. "That depends on your definition of 'okay'." She lifted one of her front paws as though examining it and let a thick chunk of mud slide free from her toes before setting it back down. "I'm alive and in good health, but covered in mud and lost in a swamp." It occurred to her then that she may have lost her bracelets in the muck. Alarm spread across her face and Hazel quickly reached down to feel each ankle. After a second of digging around in the caked on muck she made out the bracelet of one and then the other, and then sighed audibly in relief. "That could have been bad, so yes, I'll call this," she made a circle with her paw indicating the situation as a whole, "Okay after all."