Simon had been gone too long — you were going looking for him.

Lucky for you, you found him quickly.

He was in a clearing, half covered by creepers and vines. There was blood running from his nose.

He seemed stiff— his back arched.

The next thing you noticed was the horrible stench of a dead thing, left too long in the sun. You looked up, and saw a dark grey mass on the end of a stick. Flies, swarming what seemed to be a pig’s head.

Poor Simon.