He raised his pink nose and sniffed the air to the right, trying to place the familiar, pungent, but delicious aroma. It was cheese. His little mouse mouth began to salivate at the thought, but he held himself back. The builders had been laying traps baited with morsels of food for weeks. The last thing he needed was to become a mouse in a trap.
The left tunnel was the safer option. He moved down it, unaware of why his instincts were fighting against him. It was the smell of ____ that had his mouse body so on edge.
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