Not Exactly "Glamping"

He couldn't say that the swamplands was the most pleasant place he had ever camped, but considering the fact that he was comparing it to the likes of cliff tops with beautiful views and warm, sandy beaches it was kind of hard to compare. Still, this place put him as close as he could get to Ike's pack and made it easy for him and the princess to spend time together so it was worth it. She had seemed hesitant for him to try joining the pack when he had offered it to her during their last big outing together so he had offered to just stay close as a compromise and that seemed to be working well for them for now. He had set up a more permanent den than he had made for himself in quite awhile on one of the larger patches of solid land near the edge of the swamp and had even set up a campfire that he kept lit at night and had dug out a spacious den in his spare time—just on the off chance that it got late and Ike might possibly want to stay here instead of walking back to Ashen. They had done little more than hold paws, but a boy could dream.

It was the morning after his trip to Auster and when he had gotten to his den late that night he had just crashed into his bed and immediately fell asleep, completely forgetting about the scrapes he had gotten while passing through the briar. When he woke up he saw the blood across his shoulder and the bedding from where the cuts had gotten opened back up when he slept and he gave a sigh with a disgruntled flick of his ears. Getting up, he went out to the nearby river and started washing up, splashing the ice cold water onto his leg and shoulder to rinse off, watching the thin trails of blood wash off of him and float down the river before it dissipated too much to notice. He didn't want to fully get in the water with how cold it was, but he could sit on the bank and wash up well enough that way. It just seemed like that whole trip had just been a pain and a half with no real reward for it.

"Remus Armada"