With the sky lightening in the east, the outlines of trees and branches that line and overhang the road, along which Hood and Hy-Jinx are racing, slowly appear. Each footfall elicits a muddy squelch from the duo - it is not easy going - and although they might have been thankful for a lack of rain, the thin damp morning mist rolling in from the sea is quickly extinguishing memories of the warmth and dry comfort of the previous evening’s fire.

For a diminutive fellow, Hood can run quite fast when needs take him, and years of walking up and down stairs have allowed him to gain a certain degree of fitness. Hy-Jinx however, surprising as it might be, is starting to flag. Surprising since it seems, though our knowledge of her is somewhat limited, that she on frequent occasion must readily find herself in situations where she is having to run away.

The road along which they run bears east, between the farmlands and fields surrounding Burydead, east over a few gentle undulating hills before terminating in a more craggy aspect, where a variety of paths and trails split and meander down to the beaches and inlets that line the coast of the Paragorn sea.

Hood arrives at the cliff top well before Hy-Jinx, an old rotten wooden hand cart abandoned nearby, atop which, preening itself, sits a white crow. Hood, paying it no mind, hellbent only on locating Madeleine, runs to stand upon the cart, the crow silently, without complaint, launching itself into the soft sea breeze, flapping its wings and flying off. From his vantage point Hood quickly scans the sea, locating the dull orange glow of what must be the burning boat. Jumping down he makes his way hurriedly north, selecting what looks like an appropriate path that begins to wind down the cliff to a crescent shaped beach.

Hood has always had good instincts, perhaps an unconscious bias of his logical mind. He had intuitively suspected Madeleine to be on or near the sea earlier, and if pressed as to why…well, he wouldn’t have answered, he would have silently stared at the questioner as if they were an idiot…but if he really had to answer, he would have explained that based on time, location and information known, and having a small insight into the activities of the Guild, that this is where she would most likely have been.

Hood’s instincts are similarly telling him that the beach that he is descending to is the correct place to either search, or look from, in order to find some clue as to Madeleine’s potential whereabouts - should she still be alive…and, as in most instances, his instincts are proven correct. For there, on the rolling surf, about forty yards away, past the bubbled seaweed, the bands and mounds of pebbles, the worm casts and empty shells, lies a body, face down, gently being lifted and lowered by the tide.