So behold...
Jolene crashed through the undergrowth as swiftly as she could, fearful that her need for speed would give away her position to the natives as the large lush ferns whipped about her lithe body. She desperately needed to get her bearings, and looked for any recognisable path that would lead her to safety.
The faint glimmer of sunlight strobing through the trees overhead caught patches of dry-looking earth between the waving grass and leaves, and Jolene headed towards it. The clearing offered no shelter but the sparcity of foliage meant she could move quietly for a period and hopefully elude her pursuers. She had barely taken a handful of steps from the thicker jungle when her feet suddenly refused to budge. A sudden tight grip held her ankles and slowly, Jolene looked down with mounting fear at what she hoped was not the case.
Her heeled boots had disappeared into the sandy soil, churning into a thick sludge, sticky like glue and dough combined into a viscous trap.
"Quicksand!" she hissed under her breath.
Only it was like no quicksand she had ever encountered or struggled from before. It was much thicker for one, and gurgled like congealing porridge around her shins as Jolene tried to pull them free. At least, if it were any consolation, she would probably sink slower but drowning was rarely the danger. If trapped completely, she would die of exposure or starvation. Or failing that, her pursuers would find her, and eventually pull her free, only to be back to square one again.
Jolene recalled her survival skills. It would be useless to sit back and spread her weight, to pull her legs free on this side of the stretch of quicksand. if nothing else, she needed to traverse it, and use it as a natural trap for the natives, buying her time to get away. Gritting her teeth, she leant forward, the thick gripping sludge rising to her knees as she put her weight on them, hoping the near horizontal inclination of her shins would give some balance and dispersal. With almost infinite slowness, she crawled on her knees, thigh deep through the congealed muck. It was only after a couple of painfully leaden small strides, Jolene realised she was starting to sink, and quicker this time!
She glanced around and saw several vines hanging low over the quicksand. She lunged at the thickest, a few feet away, and as it held in her hands, she tugged herself forward and wrapped her thighs round it. As she began to exert all her strength, she felt it quiver, muscles and sinews contracting and extending evilly under her palms. Every instinct in her was to scream and let go, but that would mean to fall back into the middle of the softening and churned quicksand around her hips!
A harsh hiss behind her chilled Jolene's blood, and slowly, she turned her head to see the open fanged jaws of the green moss snake she had mistaken for the vine, rearing up to strike...
