The rotten mud was releasing a strong smell. A wild wolf, having barged into the place in panic, was deeply mired in it. Howling, it tried to pull its leg out, only to be trapped deeper and deeper, until the mud consumed its ears and nose and interrupted the screaming.
It was what Vicente saw when he returned to the swamps. The place where he was usually active was now occupied by a creepy man in black.
All the parts on the man that was exposed to the air had nothing but bones left. Red, needle-like fire was bouncing in his hollow eyes. His clothes were filled with unusual patterns sewed with glamorous gold lines.
Noticing Vicente's return, he asked with a voice as depressing as the dead, "Where have you been? An envoy from the Congress of Magic is coming."
Vicente replied casually, "I visited home and took care of some stuff."
By the way, I picked up Shirley.
