Mira was a doe running over familiar ground. What was following her was far behind and slow moving, but the village would need time to prepare. Those working the fields would have to be warned, brought in. The gate would need to be closed, weapons readied.
There were several dozen undead this time. But it had been worth it; in the bag over her shoulder Mira carried two books about medicine, one on sewing, and a sewing kit, all in pristine condition. Any one of those was like gold, irreplaceable. Together? Mira would be First Scout before she turned 16.
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