Where the Hunter Climbed
How to hunt if you can't navigate the field? It's not a thought he likes considering. It sticks to the crevices of his mind despite him.
Ashley stares hard at the scrap of parchment, tilting both the scrap and his head this way and that. He even closes his eyes, but it's no use. The limestone rooms all looked alike in the semi-darkness, broken and decayed. Counting doors and counting corners avails him nothing. He has no way to retrace his steps save the physical act.
The city spites him. He can't remember how he got from there to here.