[SE] it's a mud, mud world

JUST STARING AT THE SUNRISE
ABOVE THIS HOLLOW TOWN
BEEN CHASING EMPTY MEMORIES
THE KIND THAT'S KEEPING YOU DOWN

Goose did not heed her tone, likely assuming it was directed towards Iskra, or too enamoured with the sloppy ruin to care either way. "Oh yeah, I thought it looked cleaner than last I saw it," Iskra says, meaning of course, the ship, given the dog is the opposite. "Could always dump heaps of well water on him," Iskra suggests with a laugh, eying the landmark's namesake ahead. Maybe someone else had bathed here and that's what started all the mud. Although his guess is snowmelt and the rain he's seen roaming in storm clouds all over.

As she gives details to her tale and the scene takes shape, Iskra finds his lips thinning with newfound concern for the setting around them. "That fucking big?" he asks, as if trying to reassure himself he heard right, but he doesn't actually expect the answer to change. Least of all when her hands keep growing, his 'brows lifting up with them as though pulled along by an invisible string. "I didn't know it could get like that." The death is sobering, and anxiously Iskra calls out for Goose, trying to shy the dog away from the slop. Fortunately, the pup has taken to lying down in one section, happily panting, completely brown.

"Agreed," he mutters, and as she blasts water into it, which seems like the least ideal type advantage against mud, he reaches for his matchbook. Yanking flame to life with a sharp draw of the match head, his magic flares in response, and he winds a stream of flame out across the pathway to dry up the wet ground into something firmer.

THIS SENSE OF INDECISION
AIN'T WHAT WE HAD IN MIND
THE DREAM THAT I ENVISIONED
I AM STILL HOPING TO FIND