The next morning had been full of taking down their campsite and hefting their packs into the swamp. Unlike Cissnei, Reno didn't even attempt to pull up his slacks - he was going to get muddy no matter what - he knew it. Instead, he gritted his teeth and headed in, glooping and slopping alongside the determined female. "New clothes? Here? I don't know if they even make this kind of fabric here," he insisted with a frown, pushing aside some reeds. Some areas were awful, but there were spots where dry ground could actually be found, and he kept them on -those- spots as long as humanly possible.

"The question is: where is this tree Tifa mentioned? It can't be that far in... can it?" He hoped not. Getting muddy might be part of the job, but it ranked high on the 'downside' of being a Turk.