Slowly he ventured into the thicket. The mud was clinging to his boots, trying to hold him down like the touch of a jealous mistress. Step by step it became more difficult for him to breathe. Yellow fog was filling his lungs. But he did not falter.
Step by step. Breath by breath he went deeper. Until a heavy shadow blocked the cold light of the full moon. His frame was big and unsteady.
Slowly and calm he drew his sword.
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