The night was dark and still. And though his eyes usually adjusted well to such darkness, tonight they did not. A small forest mouse by the name of Mulberry rubbed his eyes and blinked again into the empty darkness, though still he could only just make out the outlines of the tall grass blades that surrounded him. Wide-eyed, he looked up to the sky, but that too was just a blanket of black, with no twinkles of starlight visible through what he assumed must be a thick fog somewhere above him.
He let out a long breath, trying very hard to be brave. But bravery for such a small creature in such a vulnerable place was difficult to find. He dared not cry out for others, he knew voicing his presence was the last thing he should be doing, even if he was only a nestling. And, as he thought about the things he should or shouldn't do in such a predicament as he found himself in, he began to realize that he couldn't recall his steps that brought him to this place to begin with. Dreaming, he realized, I must be dreaming.
With a hesitant confidence, he dropped down to all fours and began to push through the grass blades. If I am dreaming, he thought to himself as he walked, then no harm can come to me. But still, he felt a prickle of nerves, the fur on his spine-tingling.
Every few moments he paused to sniff the air, nothing to give him any sense of where he was, or where he should be going. Couldn't I just wake up? He thought to himself. If this is a dream, then why am I still asleep? He stopped for a moment, pondering that thought. Mother had always told him that if he were dreaming, and he was scared, he could remind himself that it was only a dream and he would quickly wake to find himself back in his nest. But Mulberry had never really had a nightmare before. In fact, he rarely dreamed at all.
As he sat on his hind legs, contemplating dreams and how they may or may not work, the sound of a snapping twig jarred him back to the present. Instinctively he dropped to his belly, feeling the damp ground beneath soaking into his belly fur. He focused all his attention on staying absolutely silent. Don't move, don't move, don't move. His tiny heart raced, beating like the loudest rolls of thunder in his ears. His eyes shut closed as tight as they could. Wake up! He told himself, wake up!
After a few moments, the sound of the snapping twig began to feel almost like a distant memory. How long had it been? A second? An hour? Had he imagined it, even? Or perhaps he himself had made the sound, oh what a silly mouse he was, what a silly mistake. Feeling more confident again, he opened his eyes.
And, in the sea of darkness that surrounded him, two glowing eyes bared down on him, barely a tails length away. The color of tree sap when the sun shown through it and glowing like the brightest fullest moon, black slits dilating, taking in the darkness. His heart, which had just been beating so fast, now seemed to have stopped beating altogether. A glint of light caught on a row of razor-sharp teeth, and a warm reeking scent burned in his throat.
Then, all around him like fireflies, more sets of eyes shone down on him. Some further away, some very close. All bearing down on him, all watching him, waiting for him to move, waiting to pounce down on him and snap his neck. To tear his flesh and snap his tiny bones. There were more of them than he could count.
From the set of eyes directly in front of him came a yowl, an awful blood-curdling noise like none he had ever heard, then the eyes closed in on him and hit him with an impact so strong it knocked the wind out of him. He screeched in fear, shutting his eyes tight again as his life was about to be torn from him. But then, blinking them open one last time again, he saw not the face of a monster, but the face of his brother, Flick.
Heart still racing, Mulberry took in his surroundings like a wave rushing over his head. Warm air smelling of dirt and dried grass filled his nose; it smelt of home and safety. His brother Flick had bowled him over in his sleep and was now on top of him with his little pink paws pinning his chest down. Flick looked at him with eager eyes, his nose twitching excitedly.
"Stop it Flick," Mulberry whined, still a bit jarred from his dream, "you scared me."
Flick laughed, but jumped aside to let his brother get up. "Todays the day," he said, "We have to get ready, c'mon." He jumped side to side playfully.
Mulberry sighed and rolled over so he was right side up. He couldn't quite shake his dream. "Are you two rolling about in the dirt again?" Mulberry turned to see his mother behind him, scampering over quickly to fuss over him and his brother he was certain. And, sure enough, the little brown mouse charged right over to Flick and grabbed him by the scruff. Flick squealed in complaint but was no match. Mother dropped her squirming nestling and began to lick his face with her soft pink tongue.
"Stoppppp," Flick whined, but Mother had no intentions to do so. She licked him head to toe, making the white of his fur white again. His brown spots now stood out quite nicely, and even his little pink paws were as clean as a new-nestlings.
"Your turn." Mother said, turning to Mulberry. Mulberry sighed but didn't resist. He sat still and watched his brother as he sat up and tried to rake his front paws through his tuffy fur on his head, doing his very best to look disheveled again. "You have to look your best.." Mother went on, "today's the day you'll be becoming Shadows after all." Flick perked up, looking quite proud. But Mulberry, well his mind was still elsewhere. Every time he blinked his eyes he thought back to his dream, to the glowing eyes and glistening teeth.
"Mother," Mulberry said in his squeaky nestling voice, "what type of creature has eyes that glow like amber?"
Mother thought, pausing from her grooming for a second, "An owl?" she offered, "What has you asking about something like that?"
She continued her grooming, doing her best to tame the tuffs of hair on the back of Mulberry's neck. "A dream I had," he said, not wanting to talk about it. "But no, not an owl." An owl doesn't have teeth, he knew that. "Something with teeth, like ours, but much bigger."
Mother had finished grooming him and looked him in the eyes, "Don't you worry my little nestling," she said in a sweet calming voice, "no such creature exists, it's just a figment of your imagination." Mulberry nodded but didn't feel any more at ease. The dream had felt so real, the fear so real. "Now, it's time to go." Mulberry looked back at his mother, snapped out of his short daze.
"Okay," he said, "I'm ready."