There was a large, sturdy looking well, the rocks forming its circular framed interspersed with large, dull, green stones. A fairly solid looking, wooden wellhead hung above it, He saw Shorttail leaning over and looking down the well, his claw reaching out to grab onto the bucket for balance as he looked over. Handy gawped at the stupidity of the action.  “Timothy!” he shouted out as he got to his feet, the bird looking over. “What are you doing?” he demanded.