First message
During the summer heat, the swamps were almost unbearable. The hot and muggy humid air was heavy with mosquitoes and flies. The pungent smell of the swamp clung to anything that was out there, permeating Horangi’s nose as he trekked his way through marsh land. The high grass was sharp and thick, his boots soaked with swamp water and mud, his pants legs were painted with muck. Searching for you after you were taken.