While it wasn't the most pleasant of places to visit, Sirana had chosen the swamp with reason: who would look for her in such an unpleasant, nasty little place? Ages ago, it seemed, her mother had told her to run and to never stop running, but there were only so many places that she could run to before having to run back to the same place again. She didn't know who she was running from, but she could easily guess that they wouldn't be all that inclined to visit this area, especially since so few wanted to step foot here.
Having stopped at a small town market quite a ways back on her journey, she had swapped out her old shoes for a pair of wonderfully tall, water repelling boots, knowing even then where her destination lied. Of course, trekking through the muck, all alone, she didn't expect anyone to be around; which was good, since her good cloak was now covered in mud and she felt that she looked like a wreck because of it. She could only hope that she found some somewhat solid ground in the area, a place to set up camp, before nightfall.
Reminded of the cooling air, she pulled up the hood of her cloak to cover her ears, and she blended in even more with the scenery. It was all a part of her plan to wear items that somewhat matched where she was, which was why she traded her original black cloak for a brown one. Now, she was sort of... one with the swamp.