Squeakatha had heard it. It was here somewhere! She could hear it; scrabbling, nibbling, scratching. Its long tail dragged on the floor behind it, leaving little trails in the wet, cold, stone floor.
Then she heard it. Its squeak. The rat was on the stairs! Pouncing, all bones, and claws and long, skinny tail, Squeakatha finally caught it! It was a lovely, fat rat, with little, delicate bones that would look nice tied in her hair! Rats were really not that bad to eat, when you had nothing else to nourish yourself with . . . but she didn't remember having a tail before she started eating them. That was a long time ago now.