The unicorn returned in the morning, whistling to himself as he brought his equipment over, dropping several sacks of fine cement and tools beside the still quivering bird. He looked her over, scratch marks on the surface of the stone by her toes and talons indicated just how much she’d been squirming through the night.
 
The griffoness moaned softly, eyes looking up at him pleadingly, desperate for release in every sense of the word.
 
“Ahh, good morning there birdy. Time to get you finished up.” He says cheerily, setting to mixing the cement and pouring it into a bucket, his magic holding trowel and the requisite carving tools as he loomed over.
 
The first spread of cement he lay down thickly over her paw, the dense goopy material clung to her fur as her writhing working it in between her splayed toes. It was heavy, almost warm against her as the unicorn lay down another trowel of the substance, pinning her paw down to the slab, as he worked to smooth it down, steadily working over her talons and other paw in the process. Soon all her digits were pinned within the rigid embrace of the rapidly hardening cement, which the unicorn was sculpting into the rough shape of what lay beneath.
 
Around the edge of her rump, up her sides, her tail, he worked over the course of several hours, slowly encasing the helpless griffon in a thick layer of cement, which bound permanently to her feathers and fur, clinging to make a tight, perfectly smoothed shell around her, like a stony hug. Every shiver and squirm now hidden beneath as the edged griffon was up to her neck… whimpering and blushing bright.
 
“Almost there…” The unicorn said with a devious grin, her eyes locked on the next trowel…
 
Next: