Fix me, I'm in a fragile state

Everything that happened felt more like a feeling than anything actually happening. He committed to following one of the wolves, whose demeanor felt familiar to him, though he could not see him and he did not speak. Veigar committed to move after him, though the smell of smoke suddenly filled his nostrils. Surely this wasn't still the tar pits - he felt as though he'd been transported somewhere else, but his paws still carried him onward, almost like he was moving without choosing to.

Though the edge of the chasm came up on him quick (another sign he wasn't where he'd started, not that he needed further proof) he didn't run the risk of tumbling over it. He moved painstakingly slow, testing the ground before he walked. In front of him laid a strange structure - it felt like a bridge of sorts, the way it moved when he put some of his weight on it. The heat that emanated from below was obvious, and the bubbling that accompanied it spelled danger. He'd have to be cautious, but something in him told him he needed to move forward. So he did, testing the wooden planks that made up the bridge carefully, one by one, hoping to ensure a safe route across. Wasn't like he could easily backtrack if he fucked up.

Veigar chooses wisdom, evaluating the safest planks to walk on.