She looked at the mess that was a plate of meaty sausages now on the ground, spilled.

"Fiddledrumpleskins.." She cursed under her breath. In between the sharp pain on the top of her head and the spilt meat, she was not sure which one of these situations is currently causing her more grief.

She scanned the now tiny room. She will get to that later. For now, she needs to get out of here. She bent gingerly to peek through the keyhole again so that she could get another look at what looked like could be an actual human boy.

He had a messy head of jet black hair, freckles scattered around his nose and cheek. She could not be sure how old he could be — she was never good with this guessing game.

"Will you get me out of here or not?" She yelled through the keyhole and waited. She glimpsed a sudden blue of blur, and then some rustling.

"You'd better not ran away and leave me here!" She was half commanding, half pleading.

On the other side of the keyhole, he had ran around the area to look for some inspiration to remedy the situation. Some sort of item, or a vulnerable spot to dig an opening...

Somewhere above him, an owl hooted lazily. The owl had been observing these developments with great amusement. It was surprised: Everything is going according to the plan. It ruffled its feathers, re-arranged its wings and gave two loud, drawling hoots into the forest.

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