Leave the cave

You take this perfect opportunity to sneak back out into the swamp. It may be inhospitable, but at least you know you have more avenues of escape out there.

Once out the chill hits you hard. Has it gotten colder or are you just acclimated to the calming warmth of the cave? Regardless, you need to go. Where, you realize, you have no idea. With no specific goal in mind you pick a direction and delve into the trees.

You walk, and you walk and you walk and you walk

You trudge, and you trudge and you trudge and you trudge

You drag, and you drag and you drag and you drag.

How long have you been walking? You've completely lost all sense of time. It's impossible to tell if the swamp is pitch dark because it's still night, or because the trees have completely blocked out the sun. You're exhausted, and you're not sure how much further you can make it. Each blink becomes longer, and longer until you collapse into the muck, spent.

Is this how you die? Alone, in the dirt, in some godforsaken magical realm?

You slip in and out of consciousness. You dream that you're flying, lifting yourself out of the mud and soaring through the forest, freer than you've ever been.

When you wake up, you're back at the entrance to the cave, and you're still flying.

Wait, no, being carried.

A glob of mud plaps onto your head.

Well, so much for your daring escape.