There was a sound familiar to Amelia as she turned her head and twitched her ears. Something 
shuffling a short distance above her. She followed the sound with her ears and sniffed the air as it got 
closer, moving at first to her left, then began to get louder, closer as the source descended. She 
recognized the footsteps at the end, the slight creak of an old hinge being pushed open and then at 
last, the familiar scent that her father had a few seconds before the mouse's footsteps were only a 
short distance away. He was back. He was home. 
     'Dad, you okay?' She called, standing from where she had been sitting and walking towards the 
sound. Two steps, then shuffle to the right to avoid the table. Shuffle back to the left and three more 
steps forward. She held out her hands in case he needed help. 
     'Yes, here.' Her father's voice replied. Moments later she felt the weight of something deposited 
into her hands and tightened her grip. It was the size of her chest, felt roughly spherical and as she 
adjusted her grip along its bumpy surface, her claws accidentally pierced the surface in several spots, 
releasing the sweet fruity scent that reached her nose a moment later. She smiled and turned 
around, three steps back the way she had come, then carefully searched with her foot until her toes 
touched the edge of the wooden block that the two mice used as a table. 
     'You found another strawberry?' Amelia said excitedly, turning her head towards where her 
father's footsteps had led off to her right as she carefully set the fruit down. 
     'Yep.' He replied with pride in his voice. 'Wasn't easy, but worth it. And don't worry. I didn't put 
myself in danger, I just had to wait a long time for the opportunity to snag one.' 
     Amelia held on to the block's edge as she guided herself back around the table, then two more 
steps ahead before carefully leaning forward until she found her lounge and bed. She knew her way 
around this place fairly well by memory, by touch and in a few places by smell or hearing. All of those 
senses had been fairly well honed over the course of her life, since her eyes didn't work. 
     The girl had been born blind. Her father, Mason, had done everything he could to raise her to be 
as self sufficient as possible. With her mother having died during childbirth, it was a task he 
underwent alone. Scavengers didn't live easily in Leona City, but through sheer determination, he 
had raised her to the cusp of adulthood. She almost never ventured from this place, but she could 
navigate well enough to look after herself while Mason went out to look for food. 
     Though she couldn't see her surroundings, her father informed her that they lived in the 
foundations of a medical centre. Somewhere beneath the ground floor, where he had been able to 
do a small amount of digging between the building's framework to access water and waste pipes. 
With pieces of chewed and clawed off timber and lengths of scavenged wire and stolen suture 
threads, he had made ladders and guide rails for her to find her way around. He had rigged a setup of 
a ladder and safety rails around a carefully cut hole in the waste pipe that formed a makeshift, if 
somewhat smelly, toilet a small distance from the kitchen and bedroom setup they occupied now. On 
the opposite side, a painstakingly loosened water connection formed a slow but steady leak that 
dripped into a stolen petri dish to supply them with enough water for each day. Small improvised 
tools and cutting implements were carefully stored where she could find them handle first, and 
beside them a pantry that held whatever leftover food the pair could hoard in leaner times. 
     He had remade this small piece of the world to suit her needs. He had worked tirelessly during her 
infancy in the moments he could spare to make her life easier for her as she grew. He had committed 
his life to making sure she could still have one, meagre as it may have been. Most nights he would 
tell her stories, various recounts of the things he would see on his forays. Stories of how some mice 
chose to live among the terrifying carnivores the owned this world. Stories of the fate that befell 
those that grew careless. 
     The stories scared her, but as she had grown she came to know that these tales were necessary to 
ensure she remained cautious. Sometimes Mason took longer than usual and she always worried for 
him. She dreaded the thought that one day he might not come home, and she would be forced to 
face the world blind and alone. Without his tireless efforts, his dedication, and his love, what could 
she do? 
     'So do the cats look for you when you're out there?' Amelia asked, lifting her chin as the sound 
and scent of cut strawberry reached her. 'Can they smell you?' 
     'They try, but most of the time they're busy.' Mason replied. 'I'm pretty good at waiting until the 
doctors are in the middle of something or the nurses are on their lunch breaks. The hardest part is 
getting into the refrigerators.' 
     Amelia nodded and held up a hand as she heard her father's footsteps get closer. She felt the 
piece of strawberry be placed into her hand. She heard his footsteps and felt the motion of the pad 
beside her as he sat down. Amelia took her first bite and let herself relax. Her shoulders slumped and 
she relished the taste of the fruit on her tongue. As they ate, Amelia became aware of another scent 
from nearby. A far less pleasant smell. 
     Mason stood and walked back to where he had stashed the rest of the day's find. Amelia was able 
to follow the scent, and his silence only reinforced her suspicions. He'd been careful to hide it when 
he came in, but after relaxing a little, a wound he must have been holding had reopened.  
     'You're bleeding.' She said. 'Are you alright? What happened?' 
     She heard him sigh. 'I... Alright. It was kind of a close call today. There's a lynx in the psychology 
department and she keeps the strawberries in a bowl in her waiting room. The receptionist is a lion 
and she's easy to evade. But the doctor herself was looking around for me today.' 
     'She got you?' Amelia asked, concerned. 
     'No.' Mason answered. 'Relax. She did spot me, and I had to run. Took a bit of a spill as I got back 
into the wall. It's only a small wound. Won't even slow me down.' 
     Amelia sighed and finished her piece of strawberry. Her eyes didn't see, but they still narrowed as 
she weighed her father's words. He'd had some close calls before but never to the point where he'd 
been bleeding. 'Maybe stay home tomorrow?' 
     'I... sure.' Mason replied. 'We have enough for a few days. You can help me make some new 
clothes instead then. I know you can't see, but my shirt got a hole in it.' 

     The next day passed without much excitement. Mason used Amelia's help to fashion a new top for 
himself out of some purloined thread, and with the time afforded to them by his recovery, also made 
a new dress for Amelia. It felt lighter than her old one, was less intrusive on her legs and the straps 
over her shoulders meant less pressure on her chest and waist. It also made the dress a little loose, 
so he warned her to be careful around the narrower passageways to avoid getting snagged.  
     They made a meal out of some food they had stored and the leftover strawberry from the day 
before. Mason recalled a story he had overheard from one of the feline patients on one of his forays 
about the possibility of integrating even more beings into the felid society above them, but hadn't 
recognized the name of the race the felid mentioned. The fact that there were yet more beings 
inhabiting this world that he didn't know about was both intriguing and terrifying. Yet more potential 
predators to make snacks out of rodent kind. 
     Amelia could sense his discomfort, so sought to take his mind off the matter by asking for a story 
about her mother instead. These stories always made her father initially sad as he remembered her, 
but he was always happy by the time the story was finished. And so, the rest of this day passed with 
higher spirits, but both of them knew that the respite would end with the next day's morning as 
Mason would need to venture out for food again. 

     When the morning came, the two of them said their usual optimistic farewells to one another 
near the entrance to their home. 
     'Be careful out there.' Amelia said as the two mice hugged. 
     'Of course.' Mason replied, squeezing her tight for a moment before letting go. 'I'll be back in time 
for lunch.'
     Amelia listened to his footsteps fade, soft as they were her sensitive ears could still make out the 
faint sounds steadily moving away until they were beyond her range. After a few more moments, she 
began making her way back to their home using the guide thread he had affixed to walls and through 
several short tunnels to get to this spot. Once she was back home, there was little to do but wait. She 
did have a few ways to pass the time, such as whittling shapes into one of the nearby timber beams 
with her claws, but she had done that too recently and needed to allow her claws to grow back in a 
bit. 
     Instead she made her way carefully towards the storage nook where the two of them kept a stash 
of threads, buttons, tacks or any other tidbits Mason found that he deemed useful. She felt around 
carefully to avoid anything sharp and found a few short lengths of various thread that had been 
collected and took them back to her rest area. Once back on her bed, she spent some time 
unravelling the threads into their finer constituent threads, all the easier to recombine them into 
something else. 
     Her father was adept at using a found needle to stitch pieces of fabric together with these pieces 
of string, but he had also taught Amelia how to weave them together by hand. It was safer for her 
but allowed her to keep being productive, so she busied herself be weaving some replacement ropes 
that he would be able to replace the older ones with over time. Though she was careful, occasional 
slips or mishandling meant her claws would eventually destroy the older ones. 
     By the time she had finished, she realized that more time had passed than she was expecting. 
Mason had not planned on being gone for long, but a task like weaving rope by hand was one that 
took hours at the least. The initial flutter of panic in her chest was easy to quell. Not everything 
always went to plan, and this was certainly not the first time he'd been forced to take a longer route 
or hide somewhere to avoid an unexpected predator in the area. 
     'It's their world.' She repeated her father's favourite saying to herself in a low whisper. 'We just 
steal from it.' She carefully bundled her new rope to avoid tangling it and set it down a short distance 
beside her bedding. Then she returned and laid herself down. A nap would pass the time, and he'd 
surely be back by the time she woke up. 

     When she awoke, it was with a shiver from the chill in the air. Night had fallen and the cool air 
would flow in from the gaps leading outside. The larger people in the building wouldn't notice, 
protected by the more substantial walls around them. Only Mason and Amelia, and others like them 
living in small gaps, would notice the cold. 
     'Dad?' She called out, panning her ears for the sound of his footsteps. There was only silence for a 
few moments, seeming to be punctuated by a gust of cold air that blew through the living space from 
outside. 
     She stood upright and probed the floor with her foot to ensure her bundle of rope hadn't moved 
in the breeze, before she made her way towards the kitchen area. She felt around the table and 
storage area, sniffing the air as she went for any signs he'd left something here. 
     There was nothing. No sign of any passage at all. A greater sense of worry was now pushing into 
her mind and she headed towards the passageways that led deeper into the building. 'Dad?' She 
called out again, and was once more met with silence. 
     The rope handholds her father used so she could follow the safe pathways only went so far 
towards the entrance to the larger corridors. She made her way to where the thread ended and 
pointed her ears forward. The air was flowing into the building, making it hard to hear as well as 
rendering her nose all but useless. She had never been past here before, but her father had told her 
that just ahead was one of the medical centre's main corridors, with the access hole he'd made 
obscured by a large display case full of awards and trinkets. She wasn't sure how much shelter that 
cabinet would provide, but any farther regardless and she would be truly blind. 
     She took advantage of a lull in the airflow to take in the scent of the area. This close to the open 
hallways, the air was full of unfamiliar smells and faint sounds that echoed unknown distances. But 
none of these belonged to Mason. She tentatively let go of her guiding thread and took a few 
cautious steps forward before sniffing the air again. Still nothing. 
     A rumbling sound took her by surprise, causing her momentary panic until she realized it was the 
sound of her own empty stomach. Maybe she should have searched their stores before coming out 
here. Still, she was too anxious about her father's safety to be worried about food in this moment. 
And if something had happened to him, it wouldn't matter in the long run. She'd never survive 
without his or someone's help. 
     After another step, the floor was cold. Similar to the concrete and bricks near the pipes, but this 
surface was much smoother. Potentially slippery if she needed to run. She wondered if much of the 
distance Mason needed to cover was like this. She held her arms wide as she took her next step, 
feeling where the gap in the skirting board connected the walls to the open floor. After her next step 
she reached up, feeling the underside of the cabinet that concealed the scavengers' hidden 
passageway. At least as long as this was above her, she was less likely to be seen. She followed it 
forward and stopped when she felt the timber of the structure recess lower. This must have been the 
front of the cabinet, so any farther would leave her completely in the open. 
     She froze in place suddenly as a new scent reached her nose. A feeling of dread welled deep in her 
empty stomach and she had the strong urge to start running. Was this instinct? A more primal fear 
than any she had ever felt pulsed through her and she took a hasty step back. The movement was 
followed by a faint sound off to her right and a faint increase in the subtle airflow from that direction. 
     Panic gripped her, a primordial terror that made her legs weak. She ran regardless, the sheer 
adrenalin pumping through her body overcoming any hindrance the fear might have caused. As she 
turned and fled, she hoped against all odds that she had lined herself up with the entrance to the 
wall. A scuffing sound very close by spurred her to try and run faster, only for her to collide with the 
wall. Her elbows jarred as she impacted, but despite the injury they prevented the worst of the 
collision from affecting her face. 
     As her mind raced in a scattered attempt to decide on moving left or right, she heard a woman's 
voice laugh. It was a booming laugh, the kind that could only come from a being much much larger 
than Amelia herself. Sheer panic compelled the mouse to run to her right along the wall and away 
from the laughter. She hadn't made it two steps before something pinched her tail and halted her 
small progress with an unforgiving yank. 
     'Gotcha.' The voice called. A split moment later Amelia was yanked backwards by her tail, claws 
scrambling uselessly against the cold smooth floor. One of her hands clipped the underside of the 
cabinet edge as she was dragged out and then she was lifted rapidly into the air, dangling upside 
down by her tail. 
     'Close one.' The woman's voice remarked, the source of her voice so close that Amelia could smell 
the hints of her breath. 'It looked like you'd make it in safe for a second there. Must have really been-
' 
     The voice stopped suddenly and Amelia felt herself be lifted higher. The fingers pinching her tail 
shifted against each other, spinning her by her tail to face a new direction. 
     'Oh, your eyes.' She remarked. 'You're blind, aren't you?' 
     'P-please let me go!' Amelia begged, flailing in a doomed attempt to dislodge her tail from this 
giant's grip. 
     'I don't think so.' Came the reply. 'Though I am curious as to how a blind scavenger survives to 
be... hmm, you're definitely a young adult at least.'
     Amelia felt something tugging at her dress. A flash of anger burned through the fear and she 
swung her arms in an attempt to swipe the prodding hand away. 'Don't touch that! My father made 
that for me!' She hissed, feeling tears drip from her blank eyes as the fear, humiliation and anger 
burned away her composure. 
     'Ah, so your father.' The predator remarked. 'Can't have been easy for him to keep you alive for so 
long. And all for it to just end like this.' 
     Amelia felt herself get jerked suddenly and tossed into the air. She landed on a soft surface with 
scant fur and moments later felt the same surface seem to surround her with several points of 
pressure on her chest and abdomen. She realized she was in the giant predator's hand and the ease 
with which she was grasped finally gave her a sense of how truly enormous this person must have 
been. 
     'A-are you a cat?' She asked. Her father had told her about cats, the most common denizens of the 
world above and the most likely to want to make snacks out of unfortunate rodents. 
     'No.' Came the reply. 'A cat might feel playful enough to give you a fighting chance. I am a coyote. 
My instincts tell me that you are food and I shouldn't let the opportunity pass.' 
     Amelia's blood turned to ice at those words. Though her mind had already accepted the sheer 
danger she was in, hearing the predator confirm her own intentions was beyond simply terrifying. 
She renewed her desperate attempts to prise herself free of the woman's grip but she was not strong 
enough to even begin to move the predator's fingers. 
     'Mmh, I love it when you rodents squirm and struggle.' Her voice echoed, coming from very close 
by and Amelia could smell and feel a wave of hot, wet and pungent breath accompanying the words. 
'Do your best to keep it up, fight back as hard as you can. In my mouth, all the way down my throat, 
and even once you're in my belly. Don't give up. For me, it feels fantastic.' 
     Amelia whimpered, unable to form words for a reply in the face of the coyote's abject cruelty. 
Before she could even finish processing what was about to happen, the wave of breath seemed to 
intensify and she felt a warm, slimy yet soft surface press against her upper body. It lapped over her, 
leaving her covered in saliva and she realized the woman had licked her. 
     Trying to breathe even after the tongue had withdrawn was a trial as the thick drool clung to her 
fur and whiskers, almost matting her mouth and nose and forcing her to scramble to wipe as much of 
it clear as she could. As she coughed and sputtered desperately for a chance to take another breath, 
the coyote's laughter boomed in her ears once again. Another lap of the gigantic tongue passed over 
her and she was again reduced to a coughing fit trying to simply keep herself breathing. 
     'S-stop it!' She screamed, trying to hold her arms out defensively for a danger she couldn't see 
coming. Instead she felt two soft but firm lips close over one of her arms before slurping her in up to 
her shoulder. Her hand was pressed against the coyote's tongue and her arm trapped between two 
rows of sharp incisors as the giant woman played her game. After a few terrifying moments, the lips 
parted and Amelia's body was pushed deeper inside. She screamed as she felt the coyote's grip leave 
her lower half, dropping her onto the tongue. In the next moments the heat intensified and she felt 
herself pressed against a hard ridged surface from above. 
     It was abundantly clear to Amelia where she was and she pushed back uselessly against the 
massive and powerful jaw. The woman's voice moaned in pleasure as she savoured the mouse girl's 
struggles and flavour, and the sound boomed in Amelia's ears with how close she was to its source. 
Worse still was the sound of saliva squelching around and against her as she was reduced to a mere 
plaything to this coyote's tongue. 
     'S-stop please!' She tried to beg between moments of desperate ragged breaths and being tossed 
and squeezed from one uncomfortable position to another. But the coyote seemed to have no 
concept of mercy to spare and if anything only increased her torturous savouring of Amelia's body. 
     'Mff...' The coyote seemed to pause, and the mouse felt herself being pushed by the tongue in one 
direction more forcibly. She trembled at the terrifying thought that she was about to be swallowed, 
but after another moment she felt comparatively cold air hit her face and body before one of her 
legs was pinched between a firm finger and thumb. Amelia almost fainted as she was lifted into the 
air, dangling upside down and struggling to catch her breath. 
     'Please...' She begged. 'No more... I just wanna go home!' 
     'No.' The coyote replied. 'Sorry, I was gonna be nice and let you keep it, but that dress just does 
not have a pleasant taste.'
     'Wha-?!' Amelia panicked for a moment before feeling a cold hard claw press against her belly. 
Before she could properly comprehend what was happening, the claw sliced through the threads of 
her dress and she felt it being pulled off her body. 'NO NO! THIS IS MINE!' She tried desperately to 
hold her dress onto herself, but her struggle was in vain against the coyote's pitiless and unrelenting 
strength. The fabric, loosened as it was by saliva and the predator's claw, slipped from her grasp 
leaving her cold, naked and completely helpless as she dangled before the coyote's hungry lips. 
     'That's better.' The woman's voice laughed. Amelia didn't even have a moment's respite before 
she felt the heat of that stale breath on her exposed form, and a second later was once again 
subjected to the torment of being trapped between tongue and hard palate. 'Mmmmhh! So much 
better.' 
     Amelia couldn't take it anymore. The terror had been bad enough and the knowledge of her 
impending doom had shaken her very core. But the loss of her dress just hit different. It had offered 
little if any comfort in the moments before but its loss felt like a piece of her being ripped away, the 
only remaining connection to home and her father gone forever. Her eyes started to sting as they 
flushed with tears that were lost amid the merciless predator's ever increasing saliva. Even trying to 
scream now could see her well on her way to drowning in the horrible substance. 
     She tried to move her hands o that her claws could at least try to dig onto the flesh around her, 
but the pressure being continually exerted by the tongue left her with almost no freedom of 
movement at all, and the best she could manage was a feeble swipe at the hard palate with her left 
hand. 
     A brief giggle was the coyote's reply, before the pressure increased on her lower half. As Amelia's 
saliva slickened body was being forced to slide in the opposite direction to the tongue's pressure, she 
felt herself reach an incline and realized with sheer terror what was about to happen. 
     'No! NOOO!' She screamed a split moment before she was squeezed on all sides, being 
completely enveloped in the coyote's disgusting drool as her body was forced into a vertical position 
with her head leading downwards. 
     A disgusting wet squelching sound exploded into her ears as the crushing pressure of the 
surrounding flesh increased threefold. The mouse recognised the amplified sound of a gulp with 
mortal terror, followed by her own beating heart competing with the coyote's in her ears as the tube 
of slimy rhythmic compressions propelled her downwards. This was it. It was over. She'd been eaten 
alive by this carnivore and her fate was sealed. 
     Despite the terror and the impossible level of discomfort she was experiencing, Amelia now found 
herself with the realisation that she had no idea what was going to happen next. She knew that food 
eaten eventually passed through and left, but she had no knowledge of what happened on the way. 
Aside from the words belly and guts she didn't know what was inside. The rumblings her own belly 
and guts had made in the past when she was hungry or stuffed didn't really offer any clues as to 
what was actually happening and she'd never been curious enough to ask if her father knew. 
     There wasn't enough time to ponder these thoughts further as she was pushed headfirst into a 
ring of tight flesh that barred her path. The cascade of saliva that had come alongside and after her 
pooled around her, threatening to drown her if it stayed. All the while the pressure of the tube 
behind and above her continued to increase. More tears mixed with saliva and her lungs began to 
burn with the effort of holding her breath. Was this what happened? Would she just be drowned in 
drool or crushed to death in here? 
     The pressure before her suddenly released, the ring of flesh seeming to expand and allow her to 
fall through. For a brief moment, she was in freefall. Her hands practically clawed at her own face to 
clear the slime from her nose and mouth as she desperately tried to inhale. Instead she was met with 
a mouthful of vile, caustic fluids that made her instantly want to vomit. Had her own belly not been 
empty, the mass of hot viscous sludge would have been added to in a matter of seconds as she flailed 
to get her head back above the surface. She managed a few desperate, horrific breaths between dry 
retching and trying to keep herself afloat in this morass of foul smelling semi-liquid. She didn't know 
what she was swimming in, but it stung her nose and ears where there wasn't any fur, and the smell 
reminded her of vomit from one of the times she had been sick as a young girl. Well, at least that 
part made sense. Did the belly turn food into this? Is this what she was going to be turned into? 
     It was difficult to keep herself afloat in this substance. Her hands and feet brushed past more solid 
chunks of whatever this was every few moments and the entire belly around her seemed to be 
constantly shifting, wet sounds similar to what she heard higher up accompanied by low rumbles and 
the ever lapping tide of vomit stuff bobbing around her neck and cheeks. She wouldn't be able to 
sustain this effort for long, not least of which because each breath she took was a labour in itself. 
     Her blind flailing finally brought her somewhere her feet found a more solid surface beneath the 
roiling morass. It still moved constantly like everything else in here, but at least she could push 
against it and keep her head above the burning fluids around her. 
     'Nnggg, why?!' She shouted out in desperation and confusion. 'Why do this? Why me?!' 
     Her question was met with a soft laugh. 'There's no secret.' The coyote replied, her voice muffled 
but still reverberating heavily through this caustic environment. 'It's because you're a mouse. Man, 
woman, child, it doesn't really matter. Every mouse ends up in someone's belly sooner or later. The 
fact that you're blind means you should have been a snack far sooner. You should be grateful to your 
father for helping you live as long as you did.' 
     'All of it... for this?' Amelia sobbed, still clawing feebly to keep herself from drowning. The effort 
was bordering impossible at this point, her limbs and lungs ready to give up. Only her own willpower 
was keeping her alive. 'I'm... I'm just...' 
     There was a pause before the coyote's answer rumbled through. 'Food, yes.' It may have been the 
last thing Amelia heard. Or she may not have heard it at all... 

     A few more rumbles and gurgles, typical of what would be expected after this amount of time. As 
the coyote waited, she didn't hear any more of the whimpers or scared questioning of what was 
soon to be. For a late night at the office, this wasn't an altogether unpleasant way to end it. A stroke 
of good luck on her part, Doctor Linda Canis held the stethoscope to her own abdomen for a few 
moments longer just in case the mouse had any more last words. 
     She had heard that apparently some people could faintly hear the voices of prey in their 
stomachs, but with the gear she had access to, why bother straining? It would be just as much fun to 
put herself through the X ray machine and get a shot of the mouse skeleton inside hers, or hell 
maybe even fire up one of the endoscopes and see the process directly. 
     She smiled at the thought and hung the stethoscope back on its rack. That kind of morbid 
curiosity might just get to her one of these days, but for the most part, Linda preferred to think of 
herself as a professional. The equipment was not meant for such frivolous pleasures, and it was all 
far too expensive to risk on unnecessary procedures. 
     Still...