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It was only when Rodin stepped from the building that he realised how well he had slept. His night had been undisturbed, and in the cold morning light he felt refreshed and ready to go.
He took a foodpack and a drink, gathered his tools—the Eyes, the tripcord and the traps—before packing his bag and setting off, allowing his feet to recall the route. He turned a few times, and was aware of the sound of the river close by, then he was off the path and through a gap between two trees. There was little more than an animal track, but Rodin knew it had been larger at one point, because he had used it regularly. Before, he had walked upright, but now he found himself ducking under branches.
The trees started to thin, and soon Rodin was crossing more open grassland, with the occas
