They soon reached the trampled field where they intended to set up camp. The track had led them over the peak of the cliff and down through a thicket of trees: Hazel, ash and hawthorn, Timmy identified but Lucas wasn’t interested. He was staring at something on the other side of the patch of open ground. Timmy followed his gaze and he too stopped dead in his tracks. Neither of them said anything for several seconds as they stared in curious fascination at the abnormally twisted rotting tree before them.