A mouse[1] crawled into a hole.

He breathed in quietly, wrapped in pitch black. He could smell the faint odor of damp soil. He continued on, slowly and cautiously. The hole was narrow. It was scarcely big enough for a mouse to squeeze through. And it was dark. There was no light to be seen. But he felt at ease. He liked dark and narrow places. The larger creatures bent on catching him couldn’t get to him in places like this. It was a fleeting moment of peace and quiet. The wound in his shoulder was aching, but it didn’t really bother him. The real problem wasn’t the pain, but the amount...