The clouds slowly started to cover the sky, and branches and leaves blotted even those out. What little moonlight there was, is no longer visible. MottlePaw had to keep her paws on the path, and hope that she could make it. The nearest town was ways out, and there was no way she could make it to Þor tonight.

It was just impossible.

MottlePaw shook her head as she looked around. She had to remain wary of her surroundings. Cryptids were dangerous most of the time and could lurk anywhere. The swamp was coming up soon, and that was where the worst of the cryptids lived.

She could hear the growls of them already, despite being so far away. There were only a few that might be safe in the swamp, but there was always a chance.

An owl hooted nearby and MottlePaw immediately relaxed. Birds were one of the best ways of identifying if the area was safe or not, and owls were good luck. Or were they bad luck?

She didn't bother pondering on it for long as she stepped in the mud. Great. She was already in the swamp.

This swamp goes on for a long period of time but was the barrier between Þor and Yggdrasil. 

Silence crept around now, only bushes moving. MottlePaw wasn't paying attention though. She just started wondering what her father was going to think or say about this. Was he going to find her? Will he ever know?

The fear that crept in her belly was of her thoughts, less than what was around her.

A low snarl broke her out of her thoughts and the molly whipped around. A large beast with the head of a frog, and the face of a grinning elephant. MottlePaw turned around and her fur raised. The beast should be peaceful, not snarling at her! 

She lashed her tail and hissed. "Scram! Back! Leave! I am not thy food!" She snarled. The beast roared and lunged at her. MottlePaw ducked out of the way, mud covering her pristine, white fur. 

MottlePaw hissed as her pelt snagged on a bush and tore her pelt, leaving her with a cut on her foreleg. She retracted her leg, and looked at the beast, who was lashing its tail and snarling. 

A loud shout caught the beasts attention and a flurry of angry hisses and growls attacked it. The cryptid roared and shook it off, the gray cat landing carefully on his paws as he landed. "Run!" The tom shouted. MottlePaw nodded and dashed off, being followed by the tom who was also running, though not as urgently. 

"For what hath that- that thing attack me!?" MottlePaw demanded. She looked at the red-eyed tom. "It hunted out its primary food source and mistook thou for't. I've been telling Þorians for weeks now that they want to forbear mistreating their pets and leaving out their white dogs, yet they ne'r hark!" The tom ranted. He paused and MottlePaw stared, thinking for a moment.

"Thou look familiar." He commented. MottlePaw nodded, agreeing with him. "As doth thou."