“SHORTTAIL!” he shouted, griping the edge of the well and looked over. He heard the struggling voice of the griffon descend down into the darkness and the sound of rushing water, a splash echoing up the length of the well. “SHORTTAIL! CAN YOU HEAR ME!?” he bellowed down the well. There was nothing but the sound of the wind and the rain, distant rumbles in the sky and the rush of distant water far beneath him. At first.