Christ came down from the tree quickly. There was only one thing he wanted to be sure of. About the figure of Mads, who was now lying there, surrounded by locals.
"I'm sure it's really Mads," Christ muttered under his breath. The pace of his footsteps quickened, but his feelings became even more overwhelming.
Just before Christ broke through the thick undergrowth, Christ's hands trembled. His instincts told him otherwise. Instead of barging into the crowd of locals asking for help obviously, Christ detoured.
From a distance, Mads could still smell the pungent stench of decay. Also saw vaguely from behind the bushes. Mads' head turned pale.
Christ approached with determination. His instinct told him to run away from there. But his curiosity still had to be answered.
Slowly but surely,
