Figan looked up at the high trees, gently warming in the soft rays of the morning sun. They pushed upwards in slender majesty to seek the life-giving sunlight. Amid the branches, choirs of birds chirped their morning songs. With his eyes, Figan drank in the creek. It gurgled around large rocks to finally foam over a miniature waterfall and curve around a big bend. Yes, their glen was truly a wondrous place.

"Not so wondrous," sulked Hyde.
A ridiculous thought struck Figan. "Maybe you should be in a cage, Hyde. Then you could sit around all day doing nothing," he blurted out, choking with laughter.

Hyde shook his head violently. "You not tease me, Figan! I pick up my pikes and go." And he angrily began to gather up the long sharp sticks scattered on the ground.

"I'm just teasing, Hyde," soothed Figan. " For a moment you really did scare me." Hyde stopped muttering and perked up a bit.
"But there are lots of things to do. You can enjoy nature, or explore the glen, or hunt with your pikes, or make up poems..."
"You know I not able to make up poems," Hyde interrupted, sulking again.
"Well. would you like me to give your fur a fine grooming?"
"All right, Figan," Hyde said reluctantly, pushing the last pike back into his quiver. "But you not tease me anymore."

With a leap surprising for his small size, Hyde easily landed on the huge boulder. As they relaxed above the burbling waters, Figan gently began to comb Hyde's fur with his fingers, removing dust, burdocks, and insects. Figan thoughts turned to the laboratory of Dr. Spengele. Sometimes he was plagued by nightmares of what the humans had planned to do to him. He feared that someday they would hunt him down.