After carefully sneaking out of his oak house and through the dark forest the wistful little mushroom spotted a large river in his way. He found a small make shift raft made from a wrinkled old rotting tree and used the one oar next to it to paddle his way over. He crossed the river for what felt like hours. He had just broken the one rule his father told him not to break which was never to go past the forest. A wave of guilt fell upon him as he felt hungry. he treaded slowly further away from the river