The Moonlight shone in brilliantly through the window of the now empty prison cell. Mike was halfway along the corridor, when he was startled by a rat and lost his footing, falling hard onto a nail, crying out. Mike fought back tears as he pulled the nail from his leg. His cry has caused quite a commotion down at the guard center; there were angry yells in Orkish, and metal clinked on metal as swords and spears were grabbed. Forgetting the pain in his leg, Mike got up, stumbled in his fright, but ran as hard as he could. The breath was ragged in his throat as he fought to keep going. A hand reached out and grabbed Mike, covering his mouth and pulling him back out of sight. Mike and his captor were hidden in the shadows, and Mike shrunk back with terror as the Orcs came ever closer, searching every cell. Mike was turned around and found his pink eyes staring into two blazing blue eyes.
Hold still! Do not make a sound.
The Old Elf began muttering underneath his breath. Mike nervously waited, expecting to see a Guard upon them at any moment. Instead all Mike could see was a blaze of colors. Mike tried to yell but couldn't hear his voice. Mike closed his eyes and buried his nose in the fur of his Giraffe, thinking of home, food, his friends, Esmerelda. Then Mike felt himself being shook and poked by many little fingers. He opened his eyes and discovered he was laying down, with little Elf children peering over him.
Mike sat up, which sent the little ones running away laughing, then tested his leg gingerly before discovering his leg was healed. Mike looked around and saw he was outside. It was a beautiful day, the grass was a lovely green and the flowers were blooming. Beaming, the Old Elf came over and introduced himself.
Michael, ah yes Michael, you're the splitting image of your father, knew your father very well, yes yes, my name is Spangaer , hello nice to meet you, you hungry? We have plenty of food lets see what shall we do for you, my my what's this?