You don't know how you got here.

A blanket of blue fog has long since surrounded you. Cool water licks at your heels, rippling with every hesitant step. Sparkling gems float overhead, twinkling in the sparse streams of moonlight that poke through the magenta-leaved trees overhead. You've been to a number of strange places, but you've yet to encounter something quite like this. A shallow, foggy ocean, shallow enough for a forest of trees to take root but high enough to put a strain on your joints as you traverse through.

Windchimes crafted of incredible stones sing their gentle melody as a handful of pale blue orbs dance through them. Weaving past branches and around your head, below your belly, and between your feet before darting down the path ahead. There's land ahead. Sweet, solid, dry land, firm beneath your soggy paws, and a welcome resting place for your weary body.

A half-black snout shoves into yours as an unusually bulky wolf barges from the fog. Piercing eyes bore into yours, unusually sharp teeth flashing themselves. Behind you, water sloshes. A second wolf. Taller, his piebald coat shimmering in the moonlight. He's quiet, looking you up and down without a word.

"I don't mean any trouble. I'm just a little lost." You say. Your tail drops, spinning your rump to put them on either side of you. "Who are you?" You're no weak fighter, but you're smart enough to understand that you're outmatched here. Looking lost is your best chance of getting out unscathed.

The piebald wolf pricks his ears at that, glasses glinting in the light. Friendly, all of a sudden. "I'm Floyd." he chirps, with a wag of his tail, "I reckon you're lost?"

"Very," is all that you can say.

The darker wolf doesn't utter a word, his fur remaining bristled as he moves to settle into what you realize is a nest. You see them now. A litter of pups snuggled in a little pile, so new to this world that their eyes have yet to open. They look like a mixture of him and Floyd. You almost stepped on them.

"You're in Wabang," Floyd pauses, a strange, chirping noise emanating from his throat. A fox-colored wolf bursts from the clearing, her calloused paws unphased by the terrain. "Macchiato, will you take them back to the den? Show them around and arrange a team to take them home at dawn."

Her fluffy head bows in unspoken agreement, only lingering to give one of the babies a nuzzle. "Doing alright, Rhett?"

The patched wolf nods, "mhm."

Rhett and Floyd. These must be Wabang's leaders.