Buttercup led Griz to a small stream, ambling its way through the trunks of the tall trees. Its origins were probably some small spring in a mountain,...or a glacier ever melting. The stream carried twigs and leaves from one place to another, the lush dampness on its sides home to worms and frogs and small squirmy creatures. The stream flowed along small stones tumbling them, smoothing them out into igneous eggs. Buttercup and Griz knelt down together and drank from its icy refreshing waters.. She had fed him and there was a drain and tap that he could use as a toilet. With only a cute smile, the young girl in the short blue dress flitted back out of the cell and closed and locked the door behind her. All went black and he could do nothing but wait for her return. Hands cuffed behind his back were much more uncomfortable and after only an hour, Tom’s arms were starting to ache. He struggled against the cuffs as much as he dared without marking his wrists, but he knew that relief. More

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