Part 5
It took a moment for Roan's eyes to adjust to the darkness of the burrow. He blinked several times and squinted to see to the end of the short tunnel before taking a step inside.
The odor of mice was stronger, but it was definitely old, perhaps from mid-summer. The other smell, the one that was strange to him, filled the burrow. The large chipmunk felt along the wall and found that he had to duck his head several steps in.
He paused and breathed deeply, drawing the odor into his nostrils, willing his brain to work out what it was. It was an earthy, sour smell--almost the scent of--skin?
Roan pricked his ears. He thought he detected the sound of breathing ahead, but it was so faint that he thought it must have been an echo.
At last, his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the burrow. He could make out a flat, roundish object at the very end of the tunnel. It appeared to be a stone.
Roan approached, his senses ever alert. He stepped forward two paces and slammed his toe into something hard. Cursing under his breath, he limped back a half step. In the dim light of the burrow, a solitary object rose straight up from the stone, standing pale against the darkness. Roan swallowed hard.
The object was a viper's death rattle.
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