Time passed unchecked but soon Tim was overtaken by the oldest desire. His rumbling stomach brought him back to the confined space. He was so hungry yet there was nothing left to eat – not even a crumb. He had to move but he had been so long cramped up he was unsure if he could. Parts of him were numb and his head felt swollen. Oh, why had they come to this awful place? He knew he needed to act. Unsteadily, his fingers sprang in and out as far as he could reach out. And although he wasn´t injured his body felt alien to him, strangely damaged. The satisfaction of stretching his legs to their full capacity gave him a pleasure beyond what he thought possible. Motion happened steadily, unevenly, like a cat in a rocking chair, and it was with a sense of unease that he made his way out of the chamber of hands. He was near certain that the movement of the splotched prints waving him off was a trick of the flickering light. Near certain. He would have to preserve the wind-up torch´s bulb for the worst of the jagged rocks and the drops. In the distance, he heard a scritch-scratching but whether it was human or animal he couldn´t say. Fear made him stop for a moment but he knew he had to continue. Hopes of finding his brother were mixed in with thoughts of meat pies and chips, and the long punishment his parents would inflict. He would have to continue onwards. He had no choice.