It already has...
The party is scattered through the tall grasses of the plains of the Central Wilds. Following Perrato's disastrous mis-step and subsequent flushing of a flock of grouse, the party members dropped to the ground and began to make their way through the thick-stemmed, heavy-headed grasses that nod in the heat of the evening. Not a one of those crawling through these waving fields can see anything other than sky, and the more or less identical plants in front of them. Startled prairie voles and harvest mice scamper away as the various crawling party members disrupt the rodents' crepuscular activities. Aidrin's whispered spell is observed neutrally by a little ground beetle and even smaller wolf spider, who look like they might be squaring off themselves.
Totmacher, very briefly, thinks that he might have warned the rest of the party of the presence of chiggers and ticks...and then discounts such a warning as pandering to weakness and mewling human concepts of comfort and, well, lack of disease and parasites. Pussies.
A gathering sound of yips, barks, and bayings can be heard in the distance, and is abruptly hushed. The game, it appears, has begun...