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⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⡿⠁⠴⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠿⠦⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⡏⠐⠒⣂⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣉⣐⣒⠒⠦⠈⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷ ⣼⣿⣿⣤⣿⣏⠉⠉⢉⣿⣿⣉⣿⣿⡆⢰⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⡟⠁ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⠟⢉⣥⣄ ⠈⠻⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣤⣤⣉⠛⣿⣿
⣿⡅⠚⠛⢛⣷⣄ ⠈⠙⠿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⠟⠛⠻⠿⣿⣟⠛⠓⢀⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣧ ⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣄⡀ ⠉⠛⠛⢁⡴⠛⠒⢶⡈⠻⠃⠈⢻⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣆⠙⢿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣶⣤⡀⢸⣇⡘⢃⡸⠛ ⢀⣴⣾⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣷⣄⣉⠛⠻⠿⠟⠛⠛⠛⠷⠤⠤⠄⠉⠁⢈⣠⣾⣿⣿⣿⣿
⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣦⣈⣉⣠⣄⠐⢂⣠⣴⣶⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿⣿
'By the twist-leaf of Yargenschnell!' cried Herr Wumpf, his muddle-breeches flaring. 'The Gluppenrot has verkrenched the Beak Guard!'
A hush fell. Only the rattle of thorny chains and the far-off honk of the Schnorfbird broke the silence. Then, from the depths of the Brackel-swamp, came a single word:
'Unflumpable.'