Genevieve's mind quickly shifts from the comforting embrace of the quicksand to the potential treasure trove of memories the dung pile could offer. She gathers her strength and starts to pull herself out of the bog. The suction is surprisingly strong, but she is determined. Each handful of sludge that she lifts feels heavier than the last, but she's getting closer to solid ground. With a final heave, she flops out onto the mushy bank, covered in grime but feeling alive with purpose.
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