What Now [Bog]

From the very outskirts of the mangrove came a familiar voice, calling for him. There was some strange undercurrent to the sonorous tones, but he couldn't quite parse what they meant. Picking himself up from the leaf litter at the mouth of his den, the swamp dweller murmured a soft few words to Hoarfrost. He would be back soon enough, but it was wise to let his den-mate know where he was off to. Soon enough he figured the young fae would be headed off to make her own den in the mangrove, but for now he was enjoying living comfortably with a friend-slash-apprentice of sorts. The ground along the banks was surprisingly muddy for the season, and his oversized paws squelched through the muck as he ambled towards where Áskell had called from. There was mud and debris clumped into his fur almost all the way up to his shins by the time his boyfriend had made it into his sightline.

Even from a distance, the pensive furrow to the dark furred male's brow was obvious. His gait slowed to something more hesitant, and moss hued ears half-pinned tentatively against his head. "Are ya alright, mm fanshaykane ser? Ya look like y'ate somethin' that didn't agree with ya." the emerald marked wolf aimed for a bit of humour, hoping to see a little smile creep through on Áskell's face. Perhaps he was just worried about the state he might find Bog in, since they hadn't seen much of each other since the sun had finally risen again and cleansed the land of the eerie plague.