“A little boy, who wouldn’t grow up, once said: “To die would be an awfully big adventure.” And that is how this story began; everything died.
Patches of icy snow were still present on the muddy ground of the withered Moorwood, the winter had been long and hard. It was supposed to be spring now, but an awful silence had fallen over the woods. It was reason for great concern, for all animals know that silence is a sure sign that something is amiss. Life is never silent. There was, however, one little mouse who was not concerned, at least not at current. If he had known better he would have been very concerned, but as it was – he was very little and very hungry and had therefore little room for concern.”
– Montague Mouse, the beginning.