The dead snake’s stomach contents lay in a mess, the
half-digested remains of a mouse among them.
“Now the eggs I guess.”
“Yeah,” the other mouse said, gripping his hammer and
walking towards the nest.
There were a dozen eggs and they mice smashed them all.
The embryotic fluid mixed with the dirt the mice had
accumulated climbing the steep walls to the nest, leaving them sticky and
dirty. They panted from the exertion of smashing the shells, but were rewarded
by the sight of the dead, half-formed snaklings that would never grow up and
threaten travelers on the road.
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