Making their way through the group, Hogarth trudged his way through the slowly deepening water towards where Beevil and the Ferryman were leading the way. The sounds of the parties voices and sloshing footsteps bouncing off of the waters surface and the slick stone cave walls resulting in eerie warbling echoes that had painted a permanent grimace on the pig farmers face. Which turned into a cross, glowering glare when Thomas began shrilling like a ninny over a admittedly overly large bug... while the words are unintelligible, one can now hear the pig farmer making a low muttering grumbling sound- no doubt cursing out anything and everything in his pain. 

At the sound of shrieking, Marzipan hurried the rest of the stragglers on to meet the group with young Fren Boyo leading the charge, brandishing his long handled frying pan and swinging it about willy nilly in a manner that would more likely harm friend than imaginary foe. 

"Lemme At Em!" The boy hollered as he reached them, soaked from the waist down from his splashing sprint. Thomas managed to fling the creepy crawly away, and Fren dashed after it. Bellowing what could only be what the boy thought of as a terrifying battle cry he smashed at the centipede with his weapon pan. Great ringing bangs redoubling in the cavernous tunnel, until the insect resembled so much soggy jelly.

With one final, solid whack Fren stood up and hollered back at the group with great pride, "I Got It!"

Marzipan, having made her way quickly to the others and made sure of their wellbeing- the alarm being a fright but not a real danger, was not amused and swiftly seized the boy by the ear, "That's enough wruckus out of you Boyo! This is no time for your hooligan shenanigans, an' I'll have no more o'it out of you. Understand."

"Oww." Fren grumbled as he rubbed his ear after she released it, "You're no fun marzy."

Fren moved away from Marzipan as soon as she took her eyes off him, moving to go stand with the older boys, and Marzipan moved to follow the men deeper into the water. Guiding her way with her walking stick to make sure she had firm footing and would not trip into any sudden dips, she used her other hand to hold up her skirts as far out of the water as possible...the edges would soon become damp if it got much deeper than this, and she would have to give it up as a lost cause, but until then she would try to keep them dry as best she could.