Fletcher's mandibles clicked together noisily, cheerfully even, for his Sherry-meal as several things happened. First - a kind person tried to calm her. It helped, and made the monster hesitate (or perhaps monster Fletcher was simply thanking his good fortune for two meals today), if only for a moment. The gunfire got closer.
Secondly, there was an itty-bitty voice that made Sherry tear her eyes from what was probably going to be a very gruesome death (as Sherry remembered that spiders were like vampires and sucked the fluids from their victims like big, ridiculous juice boxes).
A mouse. A mouse was talking to her.
Mice didn't talk. For a moment, Sherry even forgot to be scared, because, darn it, mice didn't talk and this one did. She gave the little guy her best lineface and stared at him for a moment. Fletcher inched closer, hesitant.
"What." She pursed her lips and said it again, "What." It said something about Sherry's experiences that horrible, mutated friends could be believed and not a cute, talking guardmouse. The nightmare around the three of them shattered.
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Secondly, there was an itty-bitty voice that made Sherry tear her eyes from what was probably going to be a very gruesome death (as Sherry remembered that spiders were like vampires and sucked the fluids from their victims like big, ridiculous juice boxes).
A mouse. A mouse was talking to her.
Mice didn't talk. For a moment, Sherry even forgot to be scared, because, darn it, mice didn't talk and this one did. She gave the little guy her best lineface and stared at him for a moment. Fletcher inched closer, hesitant.
"What." She pursed her lips and said it again, "What." It said something about Sherry's experiences that horrible, mutated friends could be believed and not a cute, talking guardmouse. The nightmare around the three of them shattered.