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A pang of worry flashed through the mare. Her dark brown eyes roved over the sparse swamp, skipping over the mossy tree right in front of her. Nostrils flaring, Tor glanced one last time around- nothing. Disappointment shot through her. But then, her eyes caught on something shifting in the roots underneath the old tree. Cautiously, she took a couple of steps forward. Mud clotted on her white legs, turning them thick and brown. Dirt smeared her soft gray muzzle as she lowered her head, sniffing. A bubble of brown popped, exploding onto her flesh. Jerking her head up in surprise, Tor glared, shocked, at the offender. Mud! Oozing, dark brown mud boiled and bubbled, frothing like a rabid dog. It oozed softly, lapping thickly at the calloused roots of the gnarled tree. To test it, she rubbed some onto her muzzle, and turned to swipe it onto the bruised shoulder she had gained from the cruel, twisted black unicorn she had met along the way here. The mare had slammed her hooves against her creamy shoulder, and it was incredibly sore. Instantly, the mud soothed the tremors in it, whispering silkily against it, healing the small wound. Yes! I've found it!
The small leaf-and-clay vessel, now balanced precariously in Tor's maw, scooped up several heaping hoof-fulls of dark, bubbling mud. She carefully lowered it to the ground again, and re-adjusted her grip, shutting the top. A bit of mud slithered onto her tongue, and she resisted the urge to retch, which would certainly cause the little invention to fall and perhaps fall open. With careful, small steps, Tor turned, ignoring the brackish water. She began to walk, and slowly, gaining confidence, she began to trot, until she left the dead swamp far behind.
"talk talk talk"
move move move
think think think
Word Count: ???
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