Either Silas was an extremely energetic knocker, or the door badly needed maintenance, as it fell off its hinges and crashed inwards onto the floor, raising a cloud of dust. The inside of the hut was dim and what light could filter in through the windows - mostly boarded up as they were - illuminated a long-forgotten mess, with fallen shelves, cobweb-infested tables, and overturned chairs. The new opening created by the broken door allowed in a ray of sunlight that shone upon what appeared to be a humanoid leg in tattered rags, and following it visually into the shadows it connected to the rest of a body, sprawled and motionless on the dusty floor. Something glittered, tucked in and partially hidden by the body. From the vantage point by the window, Oriana could see the same scene within, albeit from a different angle.<br/><br/>Meanwhile, Lydia's search for tracks turned up a few interesting finds. Among the obvious signs of the local chicken population were old paw prints of a fox who frequently visited the place, possibly the same unlucky creature who met its end in the garden here. More interesting were the giant chicken tracks, the same shape as those left by the other chickens, only much, much bigger. Unlike the rest of the poultry who stayed, the tracks led south. Finally, the soil was in some places dotted with imprints of something narrow and rod-like, repeating in patterns of eight: a spider, a giant one probably as large as a man, given the size of its stride.