Fresh Water Slough

Barren. That is all that comes to mind when you stumble upon the Sloughs. Grass, cut clean across like a razor to hair, deep puddles bleeding into the marshland below. Deep forest colors give way to that of straw and maiden's braids, of wheat that has long since been taken by the winter's frost. The only break from this monotonous scene is that of the sun's reflection rippling across stagnant water.