Post by SASKIA on Aug 19, 2012 9:50:27 GMT -5
Belly deep in the brown water, she lifted a dripping paw from the water, suddenly aware that this particular crossing was a lot deeper then it used to be. She sniffed the air, sensing that the deer had moved on and she swore loudly. Now she was stuck in the foot of mud at the bottom with water lapping at her belly. It would take longer to get out then if she had simply crossed further down stream where the old tree fell across the water way. Digging back claws into the muck, she attempted to free her front legs. One at a time, with a giant sucking sound, each of her legs were pulled from from the bottom of the marsh and allowed her to move out of the water and onto the dry bank behind her. But not without a few souvenirs. Wrapped around a tuft of fur in her belly fur was a small bone. Probably one of millions scattered in the muck of the marsh from the Great War.
The Great War had affected all the Clans and parts of the battle had been fought in every territory. There were bones and traces of the War in each place and each place had a story all their own. Here, in the marsh, the Demons had lured warriors into fighting within the waters and almost half of those warriors drowned. It was a sad ending for those who had grown up in the marsh and actually knew how to navigate and swim the treacherous marsh.
She looked back at the water to see a few bones rise from the surface of where she had unstuck herself and float down stream. She could only imagine the lost souls beneath the much. Shaking herself, she turned back the way she had come. Although this particular piece of land bordered her territory, it was a loner territory. Like all the Clans, there was one place where all the Clans could mingle without the threat of being chased off but she still tended to patrol it's borders, wary of anyone with Infections crossing into her lands. So far, she had managed to keep her Clan clean, chasing out those who had a smell of Infection on them before it became a serious case. Heartless? Perhaps. But her Clan had suffered the most from the Great War and she wasn't planning on lettering her Clan be destroyed once more. That was her Father's crime and it wouldn't be hers.
She pushed through the high reeds to come to a spot with shorter, patted down grass. Out of the whole marsh, this place was the only dry spot. Raised a little higher than the rest of the grounds, it was kept dry and warm by the sun and altitude. It was here she threw herself down, allowing herself a large yawn before she flopped over onto her side. It was irritating that she had to stop and dry herself off before she could even begin hunting again. Did she have to? No. But Saskia hated being wet. She felt it inhibited her hunting.
