Mud and Murmur

Your call echoed behind me. Acknowledged. I marched deeper. The turf sloped down. Cold mud beneath heavy footpads. Wet gravel clung to my claws. Ahead, water pooled in a shallow hollow. Black and glassy under the evening dim. I drove my snout straight in. Broke the mirror. Bubbles rose against my scaly chin. Felt the chill soak upward into my belly. Stood rigid. Darkness settled over the grass. Good ground here. Damp. Quiet.