Scrounging around in the shallow, you took hold of the heftiest rock you could find. Racked by nerves, you gripped it hard- enough that a jagged edge cut into your palm.
More of the Hounds got the same idea to flee the water, the marshes afoam and sloshing in the rush. Drawing back your hand with a hiss, you wondered what kinda bacteria thrive in these brackish waters…
“Hey!” From the shore, an exasperated hunter shouted through the darkness. “You idiot! What the hell’re you doing?”
Oh, yeah… Hastily, you wiped off your still bleeding hand on the thigh of your pants and trudged through the tangle of grass and reeds. Whether or not this monster hunting thing was based in any reality, you didn’t want to be around to find out.
There was less rushing around as you neared land. You weren't sure how to feel about that, being one of the few still wading. Any sounds in the night were quickly stifled with a rush of water, so it was quiet. So damn quiet.
Just as the water level hit your knees and you’d started to come down from the initial panic, a snarl of bog plants snagged your ankle. Groaning, you tried to trudge on with a tug. That only shifted weight onto your other foot, sinking you further in the mud.
Then you fell. No, you were pulled.
Jagged rocks came up to meet your face. Momentarily stunned and vision blurry, your panic didn't resurface until you felt the water rising- you were being dragged backwards.
Struggling to find claim on the rocky shore, you scrounged around desperately! Slip, slip- until the rush of rancid water filled your nostrils.
Then your lungs, panic overriding the dive response. Kicking and writhing, the water rose up above your head. A meter, now two; and it was cold, so cold underwater…
Under the full and watchful moon, the bogs on the outskirts of the Dark Forest were quiet.