The forest is getting thicker.
In fact, it's so thick that there's barely room for walking. The vines are heavy and thick like a maiden's wet hair after a bath.
"I feel like I'm walking on snakes," I mutter under my breath.
Sebastian had to take out a sharp dagger and cut down the vines hanging in our path, and the fall to the ground like green snakes.
We seldom talk during our travel, partially because Sebastian is as talkative as a rock, partially because I don't want to fall in this forestry and I have to focus on my movements.
I look up at the sky, only to have my vision obscured by thick branches and leaves. I can't see a thing.
"What time is it?" I ask Sebastian, starting after him again.
"Almost seven in the everning," he replies, effortlessly cutting through the vines.
"
