Morgan turns to Pratt, and in the most deadpan voice states: "We are going to die." (Hiiii c:)
"Oh please,"
The trickster let out a nervous chuckle as he glanced around, looking for a rustle in the brush, or perhaps a shadow darting along in the cover of the trees. Nothing. And that made him all the more anxious. “Just keep a sharp lookout, and we should be fine…” Pratt gave a side glance at Morgan, before looking ahead once more.













