[GM Post]

[i]"Five days..?"[/i] For the first time, the zombie-corpse showed sign of confusion. It faded quick enough though, as the dead hunter decided on an answer. [i]"No. Preparing at home."[/i] It absentmindedly reached for its pocket, glancing and squinting down with confusion to find it turned inside-out. One berry still stuck on the fabric. Birk the zombie jerkily took it and popped it into its mouth. [i]"No. No prince."[/i] The rotten berry summarily slipped out and splattered on the ground. The zombie continued chewing at nothing.

[i]"Roof leaky. Need fixing soon. Bread and egg breakfast. Food low. Few coins. Trees browning. Winter close. Checked trap. With Reinhold. Three r-r-rabbits. Trail muddy. Some fence rotting. A few goats grazing. Old barn. Even older Gerhard. His wrinkle. Trade in. Farm. Flour and eggs and milk. Some sausage. Saw Hilda. Her tits very nice. And the hips. She smiled at us." A staggering, uneven smile crept on the zombie's visage. "Chickens. Rotting fence. Muddy trail. Two huts. Roof leaking. Bertolf and I-I-Ingmar. Not happy. No catch. Into h-h-hut. Map. The royal forest. We see path. We see mark. Where d-d-deer goes. Reinhold and Bertolf argue. Ingmar quiet. Take coins. Back out. Muddy trail-"[/i]

There seemed to be a lot more to be said, if one were patient enough to hear of the hunter's entire day.