[ToxxicRenegadeAngel]

He winced as the water splashed his face, murky and brown and smelling of old rust. Slowly, it began to flow more easily, and though it remained a dull grey-brown colour Ichabod was satisfied it was clean enough to use. At the very least, it was better than the pondwater, and he stuck his head under it, feeling the clinging pieces of pumpkin falling from his neck and shoulders as he pumped the handle vigourously. He paused a moment, and sniffed his shoulder, scowling as he realised he still smelled of rotting pumpkin.

[Wild Pet Found]