“But you know what?” says Zoe, “we could…”

“Could what,” you say with an apparent attitude.

“Uh, stay right where we are?”

At this point, you’re little “adventuring” has gotten the best of you.

“Oh, so you mean that you could stay here. C’mon Joe.”

And just like that, you leave. You’re not even sorry.

Joe hesitates until you prod him in the small of his back with your walking stick.

“More supplies for us,” you say. “To Mermaid’s Cove!”

Joe and you travel to where you think is west for about 7 hours straight, but no mermaids and no cove. You look around, and all you see is endless barren land.

You look at Joe, who is panting hard, and looks extremely pale.

“The blue shirt he’s wearing makes him look paler by the minute,” you think. Then you realize that it might not be the shirt that’s making the color drain from his face.

Joe falls foward, and is motionless.

“Joe?”

“Looks like Joe’s dead,” says the deep, rough voice behind your ear.