“Right here.” Rory crouched between two bushes and rummaged the area for twigs. After finding two to his liking—a thick stake and a sinewy branch, split near the top—he stuck them opposite of each other and took out a tiny pocket knife. “C’mere, Violet.” Violet knelt beside him, and watched his tiny fingers work. “See this biggun here?” He held the knife tip to the top of the thick stick and began to carve a small hole. “You gotta make it all the way through. Like a needle.” For such a young boy, Rory handled his knife with surprising skill, and before too long, a complete hole ran through the top, big enough to see through. Putting away his pocket knife, Rory took out a bundle of copper wire and slipped one end through the hole. He fed it through and curled and twisted off the end to the
