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Waking slowly, the buck's ears twitched. Something wasn't quite right. Night opened his eyes realizing what was missing. He looked around, expecting to be alone, but was surprised to his see his usual group of avian friends sitting in the trees around him. They were oddly quiet though.

Looking around, he saw that their silence wasn't the only unnatural thing that had arisen since he fell asleep. His resting spot seemed to have become walled in by blood red vines. Then he saw the reason for the birds' silence. One of their own lay dead beside him. He leaped to feet, fearing that he'd rolled over it in his sleep and killed it himself. His familiar songbird, still perched on his rump, chirped consolingly.

Looking back at the bird, he said, "Tell me. Was I the cause of this poor bird's demise?" The song bird answered with excited chirps, then flew off through the vines. The rest of the flock followed him.

More wary of the prickliness this time, Night used his hooves to try to kick aside the vines. The vines were hardier than he expected. They didn't part enough for him to get through, but they did reveal more of the marks in the dirt giving him a better idea of what direction they went.

Frustration building up in the normally calm buck, Night ignored the tiny thorns digging into his chest. Digging in his hooves, he pushed through the vines and finally broke through.

Momentum carried him forward, sliding down an embankment and almost head first into the murky water at the bottom. Managing to stop at the water's edge, Night looked for the flock. The water held no clues for him, but the birds might show him where to go next.

Night waited to see if the pike would come back for more. No ripples appeared on the water's surface to indicate the pike was coming back. Snorting in triumph, Night took several steps through the water thinking the pike had given up.

Wading through deeper water, Night felt teeth latch onto his haunch. Indignant that the foul fish would sneak up behind him, Night kicked up his hind hooves. The pike lost it's hold on Night's flesh and sailed through the air, landing harshly on a log before flopping back into the water.

Finally reaching the safety of the bank, Night scrambled out of the water. Sides heaving, he gathered his breath while glancing about for his avian friends. He imagined that he'd put on a quite show for them, splashing around in the water, while they were able to just fly overhead.

His head stopped searching when he spotted the trail ahead. "Up?" he said to himself. "Why does it have to be up?" A steep bank lay before him. Barely catching his breath, Night started up the hill. Still a little shaky from the last sprint through the water, Night only managed a few feet, then slid back to where he'd started from.

The piece of skin brought back the reason he was following this path. His anger spurred him up the hill. This time he managed to maintain the few feet that he gained.

Pausing to catch his breath, he spotted another piece of skin hanging off a branch stuck in the mud. Night knew who he was after. Now if he could get only get to the top of the hill.

Thinking he'd gotten the trick of getting up the incline, Night scrambled up the slope, but only succeeded in sliding back to where he was. Another stone. More skin. He felt that he was being taunted now. But then an idea struck him. Maybe the culprit wasn't just one. Was he following a group of killers?

Night decided to try a different tactic in scaling the hill. Carefully placing each hoof, he managed to gain more ground. Halfway up the hill, he dared not to be too happy. He could lose ground faster than he'd gained it. More clues showed he was going the right way.