Heading to Bonemass. Realized we were surrounded by plains but noticed a small break in the land. Thought it might be a gap between two separate islands. I was wrong. By that point I had no choice but to rip through it at full sail and pray. I did not die for my mistake, and it was difficult to impress upon my friend just how lucky we were to not have been murdered.
I can’t tell you how many times I made that mistake… but was brutally murdered by stupid skeeters because apparently they can hear the sweet singing of my blood from across the ocean.