He stood silently in the dry attic considering the painting before him. Only a few hours ago he had found the picture and been amazed at how real it was, how it beckoned him, even called to him and as he watched he felt the warm breeze, smelled the grass, the sand that washed across his face as the grass blew mildly in the wind. He resisted and was ready to bury the painting once again under the thick carpet that had held it safe for who knows how long. That was when Tinker had run into the room and smelled the fresh air and seen the light calling from the painting. Without thinking his dog had run to the canvas and as as he watched had walked through in a flash of light. On the canvas he watched as his dog ran towards the hills oblivious to his constant calling.
The time was now, he prepared himself to cross over and get Tinker back. The string would allow him to find his way in the world of colors and sounds that were behind the facade of a painting, his trusty sword in hand and a backpack full of items, including of course Tinkers favorite dog treat, would open the door, a door to an adventure that he would remember for his entire childhood and beyond.