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Faereluth
It would be comforting to have my own jar of fireflies, with this in mind I try to take the jar on the plinth nearest me. At first I try to lift it, then to twist it, then using my spork I attempt to prise it off, each attempt becomes more and more determined. It seems that the jar is somehow stuck. Despite several attempts including some frantic whistling . . . I know . . . but I did try EVERYTHING I could, the jar remains stubbornly attached and in the end I am left exhausted and without my prize. Trying desperately to think of another way to remove it I stand eyeing my foe, perhaps if I hit it with something . . . I look around . . . Why is it whenever you need a rock, or a stick there's never one to hand, and yet if you dont then you find yourself tripping over them? Then I remember something from earlier . . .
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Faereluth
I remember the strange handle in the shrine. "ah ha it would make an ideal tool" I could just borrow it maybe . . . Returning to the shrine I peer cautiously in . . . in the dark its hard to see the objects, but as I recall it was near the top so I start to probe the shrines contents hoping to locate the handle tool . . . Ewww eww eww I hadn't noticed how bad this shrine smelt before, its terrible like old jellisacs and batterfly poop and whats more worrying is that what I am feeling could almost be . . . I try not to think. I find paper and then a bottle, something squishy and then finally I find it the handle, I pull it, at first it wont budge, I wonder if the Giant is holding onto the other end, but having decided I need it I try again, this time the handle loosens . . . another tug and it is wrenched free with a loud gloop . . . I am sent sprawling onto my back followed by a shower of various objects that either splat or clatter and then silence . . .
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