The mouse's nose twitched and he shifted in his sleep. The rush of wings faded into the distance, and he heard a few night-cries in the distance.
He curled himself tighter and buried his nose with both front paws and his tail. So the previous bird of prey had not been a fluke? With hunger also departed whatever tenuous safety he had known?
For now, he would not leave his hiding place, not until the curly-brown man woke up again.
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The rush of wings startled her and she looked up again, but her eyes had adjusted to the candle that had drawn the moths, and she saw nothing at first. By the time her eyes adjusted to the stars again, there was nothing to see or hear, except the moths, and the stars. She enjoyed each in turn.
<font size=1 color=339966>[ 12:12 AM December 06, 2003: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]
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...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.
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