Karma, in the marsh, seems to have misplaced her top. She is running about - maybe she is looking for it? Her form-fitting jeans hug her legs. She is running through the high grass, and then along the shore of a bog, before she trips and stumbles in. She sinks quickly to her waist, the mud grasping at her jeans and then tugging at her bare flesh as she sinks deeper. She sinks down further, somehow wading to a thicker spot where the mud is like thick, gray pudding. She sinks past her shoulders, begging for help. Will you help her get out?

Karma, in the marsh, seems to have misplaced her top. She is running about - maybe she is looking for it? Her form-fitting jeans hug her legs. She is running through the high grass, and then along the shore of a bog, before she trips and stumbles in. She sinks quickly to her waist, the mud grasping at her jeans and then tugging at her bare flesh as she sinks deeper. She sinks down further, somehow wading to a thicker spot where the mud is like thick, gray pudding. She sinks past her shoulders, begging for help. Will you help her get out?