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Swoosh... Swoosh...
Stick continuously slapped against the underbrush, leaves rustling loudly, as Marvin and his group took deep and shallow steps through the forest. The sky had just cleared after a light rain, and while the air was fresh, the ground had become much more difficult to traverse.
Two days had passed since the Ditch Number ran aground, and during this time, they had stayed in the forest, eating canned food and gnawing on hard bread when hungry, and drinking water from their flasks when thirsty. Clothes dirtied, hair in disarray, stubble grew out, and their bodies gave off an unpleasant smell—it was incredibly uncomfortable.
