Jungular Expedition

    There are four of us: my native friend, two silver-haired twins, and myself. I am the leader of our group, though the twins have point at the moment. After a couple miles, I take point and tell the twins to go to the east and west, while my other friend and I forge ahead northward. We go on a few more miles, and he decides that I am leading too slowly. He passes me on the right and disappears into the distance.
    The jungle, however, is a particularly bad place in which to be alone. As I wander by myself, I occasionally see someone out of the corner of my eye who looks like one of the twins. I know it is just the jungle playing tricks on my mind. There's a reason people say “it's a jungle out there;” the jungle is a dangerous place, one in which every move must be made carefully. I can only hope that my companions are still out there doing just that.