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Summary
Wilbur's chest heaves as he tries to qualm his panic, continuing to struggle as the hunters start to walk away, bringing his light with them. His heart drops into his stomach as they slowly leave his scope of vision, the dark shadows of the forest closing in as the torch flickers and sputters before going out completely.
The hunter's laughter fades to nothing as they get farther and farther away, the cruel sounds replaced by idle cricket chirps and the rustling of leaves in an eerily calm breeze. Wilbur's efforts to escape increase as he realizes he is now prey to the mobs he and Tallulah have easily slain in their adventures.
He grits his teeth as he tries to move, to gain any leverage against the rope's tight hold against the rough bark. He looks around wildly, silently begging that there is anything he can use to escape.
Snap.