Peter wasn't having a very good time in the jungle.
Even growing up near the backwoods of Utah couldn't give him an ounce of experience needed to remotely survive this. What's poisonous? What isn't? Does trying to use a forked stick to navigate one's way to water with actually work? He sure doesn't fucking know! It's a wonder he hasn't been killed yet!
He'd gotten separated from the people he'd originally winded up here with, and was wandering around trying to stave off the growing need to have a panic attack. He looked a complete mess: hair a beast of wild curls tangled with twigs, leaves, dirt, probably a couple of spiders.... His clothing was torn in several places, and smudges of glittering Darkblood stained it from where he'd gotten tangled up in rough vines and thorns.
Peter noticed the swarm of mosquitoes as he neared them, but they registered only dimly in his mind for now. Even if they were clearly bigger than the average pest, Peter wasn't seeing them as too much of a threat just yet. He was more preoccupied with not getting attacked by giant frogs again, and was moving a little too fast already, when his foot made contact with something solid in the mud in front of him and he yelped loudly, like a wounded dog.
Peter managed to stop himself from completely eating mud, but he did end up toppled over, dazed for a few seconds until terror struck through him like lightning. Abruptly, he scrambled to his feet, slipping in the mud a bit, whipping around to stare down at the solid object in the mud. His immediate kneejerk panic was that it must be another giant frog.
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Even growing up near the backwoods of Utah couldn't give him an ounce of experience needed to remotely survive this. What's poisonous? What isn't? Does trying to use a forked stick to navigate one's way to water with actually work? He sure doesn't fucking know! It's a wonder he hasn't been killed yet!
He'd gotten separated from the people he'd originally winded up here with, and was wandering around trying to stave off the growing need to have a panic attack. He looked a complete mess: hair a beast of wild curls tangled with twigs, leaves, dirt, probably a couple of spiders.... His clothing was torn in several places, and smudges of glittering Darkblood stained it from where he'd gotten tangled up in rough vines and thorns.
Peter noticed the swarm of mosquitoes as he neared them, but they registered only dimly in his mind for now. Even if they were clearly bigger than the average pest, Peter wasn't seeing them as too much of a threat just yet. He was more preoccupied with not getting attacked by giant frogs again, and was moving a little too fast already, when his foot made contact with something solid in the mud in front of him and he yelped loudly, like a wounded dog.
Peter managed to stop himself from completely eating mud, but he did end up toppled over, dazed for a few seconds until terror struck through him like lightning. Abruptly, he scrambled to his feet, slipping in the mud a bit, whipping around to stare down at the solid object in the mud. His immediate kneejerk panic was that it must be another giant frog.
And so, Peter just started screaming.