A silhouette appeared at the edge of the pit, blocking out the moonlight. It was Joran. He was holding a heavy shovel in his hands.
“You always did like the woods, Little Mouse,” Joran’s voice boomed, echoing in the hole. “It’s a shame. There are so many dangerous holes a clumsy boy could fall into.”
“Joran! Let me out!” Neptune yelled, his voice cracking.
Joran didn't answer with words. He drove the shovel into a pile of loose dirt at the edge of the pit and dumped a heavy load of earth right onto Neptune’s head.
“The search party won't find you for days,” Joran said, his voice cold and devoid of mercy. “And by then, the wolves will have done the work for me.”
He dumped another shovel of dirt. Then another. Neptune scrambled back, trying to shield his face, but the soil was heavy and
