Small Dilemma

Hasfad turned around in his cell. There was hardly room to do so. The opposite wall did not improve his view, as it looked just like the one he had stared at for the past hour. He had not shifted position in hopes of better scenery. He was ensuring that his muscles would not cramp by staying in the uncomfortably small chamber.

He could not stand. The best he had managed was a half crouch with his back against the ceiling before he had settled back on his haunches. The only light filtered in through a tiny window, now behind his head. His captors need not have bothered barring it, as the window was hardly the width of his palm. But then, this prison was not meant for him. He doubted they would keep him here much longer.

After the discomfort of awakening from being drugged, it had taken a while for Hasfad’s head to clear, but now he was feeling quite awake. In the distance, a large number of armored footsteps approached, the young giant leveled his door-sized boot in the direction of the locked entryway.

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