For the first time in a long sequence of walk-paced pathaways, the group (once consisted of three) traversed the path at a speed faster than that of a slow walk.

That is to say, they were running. Very fast.

To wander through the mazelike sequence of tunnels at such speed was a pretty overwhelming feeling, to say the least. At that point, they didn’t know where they were going anymore, or DIDN’T CARE AT ALL. It was futile, anyway. They didn’t have Mr. Rabbit’s thread, nor did Meryl’s memorized map seem to work against the wizardly quagmire that were those cursed sewers.

They were running pretty much completely blind. SO blind, that maybe blindfolded they could’ve get a better notion of their surroundings.

If any of them had a PROBLEM-o-METER at hands, they would’ve been able to calculate their situation and attest that it was, to say it softly, PRETTY BAD.

((And if someone had a OVERUSED-o-METER at hands, they would also be able to precisely calculate how much this gag has been used and correctly attest that it has been, to say it softly, USED QUITE OVERLY.))

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