Their march in the high sun is not an easy one.  The ground squelches here and there with brackish seepage, but Remec and Hallen manage to keep them on sturdy-enough ground so that they are not terribly mired.  They are sized up from about two hundred yards by a clutch of winged skulkadders, but the beasts opt to pursue smaller prey.  The peeping chorus of frogs grow louder, and as they approach the dense jungle the sound of cicadas is so loud that they must lift their voices to talk.  Then, as they enter the dark canopy's shade, the five of them notice that things here are, in a word, strange.<br/>At first, Alphonse is surprised at how long it takes them to reach the woods, as if the treeline is creeping farther away as they approach it.  This sensation is easily explained when they reach the trees, however, because the trunks are easily twice the size of normal.  The blackgum and water-ash, too, seem swollen, bloated from within.  The water, murky and lukewarm, smells fetid and rich.  Thick ropes of hag-moss dangle like the decayed banners of a thousand armies.  Insects are persistent and inescapable.  There are dragonflies as big as their hands.  The whole party's exhaustion seems to fade, giving way to the instinctive wariness and heightened awareness.<br/>((ALRIGHT, let's give out some clues and details.  I'd like people to post Survival, Knowledge: Nature or Geography or Local or History, Perception, Trapfinding checks.  WOOT dicebot))