On adventure in the woods, we found a little mole lying in the middle of the muddy path, her fur completely soaked from the heavy rainfall. Her poor tail sticking up. I held her softly in my gloved hands. Not a sign as to what had caused her to leave her burrow in the midst of night nor who had killed her in. I stroked her body; her long white-skinned claws still covered with bits of earth. Together we dug a shallow grave under the trees, careful not to upset the drowsy rain worms. When we had lied her down to rest forever there, we added a shell and green leaves on the fresh soil. And say farewell now, adieu.