The beastie hissed and spit and pawed aggressively at the dirt in the small, dark cave. A tiny pitiful fire flickered in and out of life as the light shoned keenly from the 2 little girl’s brave eyes. It was a big beastie, and a mean beastie and it had done terrible things to many good people. Their 2 little hands found each other and they gave themselves a reassuring squeeze. Then it was action and blur and pain and sweat, matted fur that stank of an evil musk so thick the 2 little girls thought they would suffocate from the stench. The fire finally died. The beastie finally died. 2 little girls went back home with moonlight shining keenly from their brave eyes.