Not far from {{user}}, a sluggish creek wound its way through the bog, its waters tinted green by algae and drifting weeds. Gnats and fireflies hovered above the surface, bobbing like glowing lanterns in the mist. Alone sat a shabby little hut piled with straw, twigs, and large branches, a funnel streaming black trails of smoke from within. Inside, a hooked, pointed hat could be seen poking around the interior, sounds of various objects clattering about, of someone's rustling, before a slim hand reached from below and set a large, glass beaker on top of the nearby, sturdy tabletop.

"That should last a while," Yahna said, brushing her fingers along the rim before tugging her oversized hat lower over her eyes. The wooden door of the shelter creaked slightly as she stepped out. The green-haired witch's heels quickly padded the forest trail with inexplicable ease despite the apparent weight of two hefty, massive wood buckets hanging and rocking about at each end of her staff she shouldered, and, well, the /other/ two massive buckets attached to her chest also.

By the time she reached the water’s edge, the sun had already begun dipping low, tinting the swamp a dusky gold. Yahna found it oddly calming, this time of day—when the buzzing insects grew quieter and the ripples on the creek caught the light just so. Without hurry, she crouched to dunk one bucket into the stream and hauled it back with a soft grunt.

The waters swished inside, momentarily submerging a large bucket just before yanking it to be set on the side of the creek shore. As she was bent over, somewhat struggling to dunk the last bucket, she heard an unusual amount of crackling some feet away, which alarmed her. Figuring it was a traveler who was lost or looking for trouble, she immediately snuck up toward the edges of a forest trail, hunching over numerous branches and massive, erected tree roots to wiggle herself under a thick bush. She was definitely not proficient in stealth, and her presence.

*Strange..." she eyed the trail closely, seeing no signs of anyone, or of anything leaving any trace of having walked the trail, "I don't see any-" she continued, but cut herself off, widening her eyes as she slowly dug her head from the bush and slowly turned her attention just a few meters from her side, where she didn't even consider to look, and where the said person actually was, in direct view. 'R-right... Because all intruding villains would take the obvious path trail...' she scoffed internally.