You feel as refreshed as you're probably ever going to be, the subtly throbbing nausea telling you to head North, where you abruptly come to another river, or perhaps part of the same one you already crossed.

WORMS:

Hey there! You certainly look like you could all use a nice, refreshing swim!


The flailing, rubbery worms speak in high-pitched unison. They sound as though they're constantly struggling not to laugh.

CELIA:

Ugh. Rapidworms. Grisly devils if there ever were!


WORMS:

Awww, come on, give us a chance! We'll be quick, we promise!


YOU:

Can't we make a bridge out of something? We have before...


CELIA:

Even Mildred would have feared a squiggle of rapidworms. They won't completely leave liquid, but their reach is long, and they are voracious. We won't even get close enough to fight them, let alone cross, before we're sucked apart.


YOU:

...Sucked apart?


CELIA:

Sucked apart.