The Marsh

The bog squelched around her worn hiking boots. So much for a nice walk, she chuckled tø herself quietly.

Still, the sun was shining, the birds were singing. It was good to be out.

Secretly, she loved these marshlands. The stillness made her head quiet - at least so some extent.

Occasionally, she would meet a little used gate, pushing it open stubbornly. They would creak back at her, soft disgruntled moans questioning why she dared move them from their settled spots.

She never bumped into fellow ramblers on these walks. Too muddy, probably. She laughed, thinking about the state her dog used to get in on their morning excersions.

Taking yet another creepy gate, she was met by a deep puddle. Too far to turn back, she decided to use her tried and tested method of pushing off the bank and jumped across.

Her foot slipped as she pushed off. “Shit!“ The crunch of a breaking branch beneath the surface. Mud soaked her boots. Cold stagnant bog water seeped over the top of her boots drenching her socks.

Glancing down to survey her feet, her mind quickly shifted from the mud. A bone stuck out of the puddle. A decidedly human looking tibia.

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