“How long you ‘spose we been in here?” Flotsam asked.
“Seems like forever.” Webs clung to Jetsam’s face as his nimble fingers wiped away the sticky veneer. He had no idea how long they’d been plodding. Regardless, the lantern oil kept burning lower.
“I know,” Flotsam concurred. “Sometimes it feels like we’re going downhill, but just as often up.”
A rat scurried beneath Jetsam’s feet as he shuffled. Gambling on the rat’s instincts, Jetsam followed the rodent. “The varmint’ll lead us to the surface,” Jetsam murmured, hoping he was correct.
“Don’t get too close,” Flotsam warned. “Don’t want him running off.” The furry rodent stood as big as a barn cat, and displayed no fear.
“He’s lucky we’re not hungry,” Jetsam joked.
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