As it was, there was a trail of clothes behind Chuck, starting somewhere near where he'd gone off of the main path to head back to his sister's hut and ending just outside the door of the Woodcomb hut, where Chuck stood, holding a noticeably smaller bundle of clothes than he'd started out with. As small as baby clothes were, Chuck was convinced that they were somehow slipperier than regular clothes.
Or...something. Either way, this was ridiculous.
Repositioning the last of his finds in his arms, he knocked on the door with his foot.