Dirt was wallowing.
The fresh rain had washed away most of the dry surface in her small territory, leaving puddles of thick, congealed mud that were perfect for cooling her small, fevered body. She babbled away about something quietly as she lay, front paws splashing as she reached for bits of twig and leaves nearby.
All in all, she was having a good time.
A cool breeze blew by, and suddenly she paused, staring blankly in the direction it had come from. Just over the hill and down the way was a large burial ground, soothingly quiet and rarely (if ever) visited. It was fitting that Dirt call it her home. The cemetery rarely confronted visitors, and they made sure to steer clear of her as well; not that she would harm them. Whatever reputation her species had Dirt was certainly not one of them. She was more than content to lay in her mud puddle in the sun than chase humans around all day, anyway.
