Shoeprints led from the road to the pond, to the burrow, back to the road, back to the burrow, and to the road again. Otter tracks led from the water to the road. The afternoon sun was drying the mud, leaving a network of cracks.

A note was stuck on a tentpeg stuck into the hillock. This is what it said:

Dear fellow Pig patrons:

It seems I've been ordered to vacate. Please forgive me for leaving without saying anything (again), but an oppor- tunity opened, and it would have been silly to pass it up.

I had a great time at the NormBash last night, and I hope you all did too. Victoria, don't worry.

The footprints around my burrow may look suspicious, as may the fish, but I assure you, there is an explan- ation for all of this. Wut, wut!

Oren (signed) Oren (printed)

It was printed with the printer usually connected to Oren's password-protected laptop. Which was conveniently gone. Lab analysis of the ink would later show that the note was printed around eleven that morning.

Bronski turned to the rabbit. "Most suspicious, Phil. I'm glad you found this, for Oren's sake."

Phil sighed. "I hope things work out. I knew something was wrong when I dropped by to chat, and found half-eaten fish covered in peanut butter and no Oren."

The ostrich nodded.

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