Mousethful

Ice filled the air in a glittering flurry, wind gathered in speed, the sky above the desert of the midnight sun darkened with clouds. The inhabitants of the small village of Dumal hurried about at the last moments to drive their livestock underground. Only when the last carison was safely stowed away did the herders turn back to their homes. The first few hailstones of the year could be heard against the domed ice-sand roofs of the village as Karr moved the thick hide doorflap aside and descended into his own newly dug home. It was a rather small den, perhaps ten feet deep, with a meeting area should he have any visitors, a pantry, a raised