He stood in shadow of the tree and held his
breath. The slightest sound could give him away and he would be caught. They
had been looking for him for years but so far he had evaded them.
He heard the foosteps pause. They were
listening for him. A bird moved behind him causing a noise and the footsteps
moved again towards the sound. He held close to the tree and took small shallow
breaths.
“There’s no sign,” a voice shouted.
“All right. Let’s go back to the car.”
He let the footsteps fade to nothing before
he began to relax, a little.
He was the last of his kind. Well, the last
that he knew of. He was the last of the Tiny Giants.
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