[He shakes his head and points in the direction he'd been walking. Nah, he'd just been following the paths and trying to get through as best he could. (Eating and drinking isn't exactly an issue for him, but he has no idea how to convey that without it being a big to-do, and they have a job to do, right?)]
[The pitchfork glares and folds its arms, utterly offended at the insult. Excuse you - it's great at its job! It marches over to a patch of vines and stabs angrily at them, as if to make a point.]
no subject
[The pitchfork glares and folds its arms, utterly offended at the insult. Excuse you - it's great at its job! It marches over to a patch of vines and stabs angrily at them, as if to make a point.]