Chopyk took him to the cave where he provided him boar blood and deer skin. He waited for Roderick to write the letter. Chopyk stretched the skin so that the blood won’t smudge.

“Take it to Bartholomew’s den.” Chopyk said when the blood dried, “Go to Purple Forest and follow his trails. You will not have any trouble in finding where he lives.”

Roderick rolled the heavy skin, hoisted it on his shoulder and strolled for Bartholomew’s den.

He was delighted to know Isolda and Bartholomew were not in their dating spot. Roderick still kept cautiousness, then made his way in the route with broken trees.

Roderick walked for an hour with the weight on his shoulder. Exhaustion caught up with him soon. The roll felt heavier farther he got. It was not even midday, so he took much needed rest. His limbs were shaking because of weight.

He put the roll down and placed his head on it like a pillow. Roderick closed his eyes to kill his fatigue.

Roderick’s head slipped from the roll. He first thought it was his own fault, but he changed his mind after feeling clutch on his feet. The hand dragged him further from the letter.

It was a ghost.

“Leave me!” Roderick yelled, but it didn’t listen. Instead, more ghosts gathered to see what their friend had grasped. Roderick kicked the ghost, freeing himself.

As he got up, he saw himself surrounded by ghosts. Some were in air whereas others were floating in air.

“What do you want?” Roderick asked. None of them replied. They just hissed, displaying their vague reason to attack him.

A ghost went on to touch the roll.

“No! Don’t touch it.” Roderick bellowed, but it didn’t bother looking at him.

They are deaf. Roderick realized. He also understood something else. He was standing in a graveyard and all the ghosts were within its area. Roderick grabbed a tree trunk, rotating it with intent of hitting ghosts.

He was taken aback to find those ghosts had flesh and bones. Roderick didn’t hold himself back after it. The tree hit most of them and left them stunned. While the ghosts were trying to get their senses back, Roderick rolled the letter again.

He leaped out of the graveyard.

Ghosts hissed at him, but Roderick shrugged it all off. Before this encounter, he believed in silent walking in the forest. Mute ghosts had changed his mindset from the root.

He ran from there till he reached infront of a den which had a door. Roderick could see the door was not locked.

Bartholomew must be inside. Roderick gulped. He walked to his doorsteps and threw the letter with a noisy thud.