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... at would happen for the time being.

“The trail stops here, Roy. Does that mean my son is in that hole?” Huckle gulped, his fingers twiddling. Nervously, he asked, “What is this hole? Did an anteater or mole dig it?”

“They can’t make one that big.” Roy stared at the hole, thinking about the possible monsters that could have dug it. “And Berschel was dragged a mile. Either it’s a really big monster, or there are a dozen in there.”

Huckle realized he got it wrong. “Berschel is six ...

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Aloof and solitary, none can measure it’s might. It is law. It is commandment. It is merciless. It is unfeeling.

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Dear readers! Fresh green style, maybe you will like it more in .