"I'd like to be behind him for a week, and I'd make him step a little faster.

We have arrived at last, thank goodness." There was a small grass clearing in the midst of the woods.

Chips and bits of wood were littered about, and across the clearing was a roughly-built house of unpainted boards.

The front door was propped open by a stick.

Some of the panes of glass in the windows were broken, and the whole house had a melancholy, dilapidated look.