Hundreds of rats,
thousands maybe, all looking intently at the same thing.
He follows their gaze,
intrigued to know what could possibly hold their collective attention
like this. At the far end of the cavern, almost at the limit of his
vision, on a raised platform, stands a single rat. Large than
average, much larger in fact, even compared to a mature buck, it
stands on its' hind legs, squeaking and chittering away to its'
silent congregation. Every so often it pauses while a large group of
rats breaks away, heading silently but in unison down one tunnel or
another, before it continues.
“That's not right,”
he mutters to himself again, “Not right at all.” He turns to
leave, gathering the suspicious attention of his neighbours as he
does. “Okay, maybe not,” he whispers, turning back. He waits
until those around him are once more facing the platform, then slowly
begins to make his way forward.
