The three soldiers hack through the foreign forest, bearing torches.

“Captain, it’s getting dark. Should we head back?” Eurylochus says.

“No. We need to find food for everyone, and we have 600 mouths to feed. We push forward,” Odysseus commands.

“Uhh… Captain, I kinda agree with Eurylochus… I’m getting a bad feeling…” Polites chimes in, nervously. His eyes dart around the branches and bramble of the forest formerly untouched by human hands.