The trail that Madoc followed wound through the trees, quickly becoming something that only the most skilled of trackers could have seen. The Kier, wildlings as they were, clearly knew the ways of the forest better than any but the beasts who lived there.
As they walked, around them the party heard the roar of beasts, the howl of something being hunted, and occasionally spotted movement, both on the ground and in the trees, but nothing ever approached. Perhaps it was the size of the group, or perhaps the size and the scent of Red Harvest, her oiled metal armour distinctly foreign to a place such as this. Either way, everyone was grateful that the local wildlife had chosen not to become involved with their mission against the Kier
Rounding a corner on the trail, now deep into the woodlands, Jarn stuck out a hand to grab Madoc and halt him, then carefully pointed at the trail before them. Resting across it was a very fine piece of cord, disguised with draping and dead insects to look as if it was merely a spider’s web. When everyone was safely away and the string was plucked, a log cut into spiked timber smashed across the trail where they would have stood.