
Taking a large piece of bark for a surface, he laid it on the ground. Next he journeyed to the end of a stream and plunged his face into the mud. Just as the salt had, he let it fill his mouth and soak into his nostrils. Keeping the mud in his mouth, he swirled it against his tongue and teeth before spitting it onto the bark he'd prepared. He then snorted any stuck in his nose onto it as well and studied the image left for him. He stared at the mud until his vision blurred, then continued to stare at the vague shapes taking place for him. He saw a solid, shifting mass standing firm against a violent, beating chaos. He stilled, trying to decipher what this could mean, what salt had to do with the image, what he was meant to do when the answers came.
It was a delighting kind of frustration, a puzzle gifted to him by magic, and he found himself growing excited to complete his prize. All at once, the answer sang to him, though it left him just as curious as he began. The Sea. The bite of salt met his tongue once more as if in confirmation. He was meant to go, that was for certain, but what awaited him there? The burn of excitement remained nestled in his belly as he began his Swamp-bade journey.