You think you catch a glimpse of the mysterious figure once or twice, but it comes no closer. A scattering of leafy trees hampers your travel and sight. Soon, you have to stop, and wonder if it was just your imagination.

This cannot do. After catching your breath, you pull out your compass. It will tell you which way is out.

But no matter which way you turn, the needle always seems to point right behind you. Or perhaps at you. Shivering, you put the useless thing away and simply pick a direction, setting off in a direction where the forest is perhaps a little less thick.