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The nearer they waded toward the tangleberry tree, the deeper the water became, until Miros was submerged up to his chin, with his hooves digging fruitlessly at the muddy marsh bottom. He kicked off as best he could and began to swim, his mane and tail a messy spill of black floating at the surface. Ralir might have been better off. Miros was short for a buck, and this wasn't the first time he'd had difficulty keeping his nose above surface. The peat mound claiming the tree was half a mass of tangled roots, dripping down into the murk. Miros gripped one with his teeth and hauled himself onto the shabby little island. He was utterly filthy and stank of putrescence, his only saving grace being that the bog smelled worse.

Lem patted Ralir's head in excitement, then scuttled down his muzzle, flinging herself the last few feet toward the tree. She landed with a splat on the edge of the mound and crawled rabbit-quick up the trunk of the tree, disappearing under the cage of branches. Miros stared after her, bewildered.

"She's certainly motivated," he said, kicking up a grin as he trotted to the edge to help Ralir up, should he require it.

"Ah ha!" Lem squealed with delight.

Miros turned in time to catch a berry between the eyes. It bounced off his face and plopped to the ground, mostly intact. The fruit was covered in a semi-transparent black casing of leaves, showing hints of the bright right berry within. It was nearly the size of Lem's head.

"I'll toss 'em, you catch 'em!" Lem shouted, as another berry bonked off the side of Miros' face.

"How many do you need?" Miros tossed Ralir a worried look and mouthed," How will we carry them?"

"As many as I can reach!"

"I can swim just fine!" Lem groused from somewhere deep in the tangleberry tree.

Miros opened and shut his mouth a few times, staring helplessly at Ralir. They'd found her drowning, or possibly drowned, out here in the bog. Even a creature strong enough to swim for long in this murky mud soup were quickly overcome with exhaustion. How had she planned on making it all the way out here? Maybe she could swim, but all evidence pointed to her not swimming very well. Miros didn't want to voice that where she might hear it, but hoped Ralir could interpret his expression just fine.

The branches? Miros twisted his head toward them. A smile slipped free and he nodded to Ralir. "No, they're not poison." He trotted closer to the tree, dodging two more berries flung their way and ducking under some nastier looking thorns to grab lower branch that made nearly bare of nettled. He gripped it and snapped it cleanly off with a forceful shake of his head.

Lem's head popped out between the tangle of thorns. She blinked one eye, then the other. "Berry kebabs!" she laughed, muttering," Brains and brawn" as she ducked into the shadows once more.

"It's a good idea," Miros muttered around his mouthful of stick. He briefly considered how Lem thought she was going to bring these berries back to... wherever her home was and dismissed the thought as too likely to induce a headache.

Miros titled his head to the side and eyed one of the leafy berries plopped in the mud. He sank to his knees, rear in the air, and attempted to aim the point of his branch at one.

"Oh good, you pick those ones up." Lem scurried to the end of a limb, a fat berry tucked under her chin. She wiggled a hand at Ralir to beckon him closer. "Hold your branch up and I'll stick some on."

"Here?" Lem guffawed as she waddled out from the tangle of thorns. Her mouth was stained red with berry juice, having clearly eaten the last pickings she'd scooped up from the quickly emptying branches. "Who would live out here? People with rocks for heads and no sense of smell."

Lem demonstrated her lack of another sense (that is, common sense) by gleefully flinging herself from the tangleberry tree and landing with a moist plop on Miros' nose. She clambered up over his head and set herself comfortably between his ears, gripping the course black strands of his curly mane.

Miros shot Ralir another silent, pleading look. He'd never met anyone quite so foolhardy as this tiny scuttle scale.

"I live in Homewood like the rest of you nouls," Lem continued. "The ones who don't like roasting in the sun all day, anyway."

"We should probably get back before we inhale much more of this air," Miros mumbled around his stick. "I'd be happy to bring you - and your berries - home. Are you ready to head back, Ralir?"

This was more than enough time spent in the bog for Miros' comfort.