"At least with two of us it has to decide who to steal from," Rosinante says as he too glances over at the spirit one last time before starting off in the direction the compass had pointed, one hand tight on the strap that holds his bag and that his lantern is clipped onto, while the other helps push aside branches as they walk.

It's no more than a minute before he hears the rustle of an empty bag somewhere behind them. "Sometimes I wish I had eyes in the back of my head," he sighs.