Randle led them up a steep hill that overlooked a clearing. “We saw a few undead just over this hill. We may get lucky and see one,” Randle said.

They stopped at the top and looked down at the clearing. They all froze.

“That’s a lot... of zombies,” Prunhiline muttered.

There appeared to be fifty or more, and they seemed to be searching for something. They mostly turned over rocks or tree limbs, walked away, and then another would check the same spot.

“What are they looking for?” Britina asked, confused.

“Maybe the prince?” Prunhiline suggested.

Randle and Britina looked at each other. That could be it. If he had escaped, maybe they could find him before the undead horde did. It shouldn’t be hard; they weren’t very good at searching.

“If so, dear love, that could be our good fortune. We could find him and return him to the fortress,” Britina said.

“The only problem is getting around all of the undead,” Randle said.

“Maybe if we went around to the east, if they are content to stay here, we could avoid them,” Britina suggested.

“Great! Let’s go!” Prunhiline said a little too loudly. The undead all looked up at the companions on the hill. The collective moan was deafening as they all began a slow shamble toward them.

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“Should we run?” Britina asked, eyeing the sluggish undead.

“Nah, it’ll take them forever to get here. Let’s go east,” Randle said, turning away from the slow mass of undead.

As the four (don’t forget the bear, dear reader) made their way down the hill to put another obstacle between themselves and the undead, Randle and Prunhiline both stopped. Bob the bear stood up on his hind legs, alert to an attack. Britina took her cue to be ready. Randle pointed, and Prunhiline nodded. Then Prunhiline pointed, and Randle nodded. Even Bob the bear got involved, pointing with his paw, prompting nods from Randle and Prunhiline. This annoyed Britina.

“What?” Britina whispered, aggravated that she was the only one who didn’t know what was happening. Even the blasted bear knew.

“More tracks,” Prunhiline said, hushed. Britina glared at the warrior; now, she was being quiet.

“So? There should be tracks all over with the undead,” Britina said.

“These aren’t undead. They look to be dwarven,” Randle said. Prunhiline and Bob nodded.

“How can you tell?” Britina asked, confused about how anyone could discern such details from the ground.

“Undead shuffle their feet. This is a solid boot print and doesn’t scuff the ground,” Prunhiline explained. Britina trusted Prunhiline and Randle, both expert trackers and apparently the bear too.

“So, possibly the prince?” Britina asked. They nodded, even the bear. “So, which way do they go?”

“North,” Randle grumbled. “Straight to the giant spiders.”

“We need to follow those tracks,” Britina said. She paused when she looked at Randle. He had an expression she didn’t like. “Randle, what’s wrong?”

“We distracted the zombies. They’re going to walk in a straight line until they find something,” Randle said.

Prunhiline gasped. “Oh, no. We have to do something.”

“What?” Britina, again, was left out of the conversation.

“I’ll go warn the village. You two need to follow the tracks. They could lead you to the prince or at least give some clues as to what’s going on,” Randle said.

Britina nodded, now in the know. “Prun and I will go ahead. Thank your help, Randle.”

“My pleasure, my lady,” Randle said. “I’ll warn the village and then catch up with you two.” Randle waved goodbye as he and Bob left.

“All right, then. We are off,” Prunhiline said a tad too loudly for Britina’s liking. She pointed east. “To the northern woods and the giant spiders.” The last part had more enthusiasm than Britina appreciated.