Anyone Home?

“Hello?” They stood at the edge of the entrance, Nettlehoney stretched their matchstick torch further inside. The snow fell in patters and fizzles around them lining the gray oak branches with thick mounds of cold glistening fluff. Miminy clicked once, poignantly, and his nose wiggled at the darkness. Still and quiet, nothing clicked back. “It seems empty,” whispered Nettlehoney, and the squirrel clicked again. “Let's get inside,” and their boots scraped against the edge of the old worn hole high up in the tree trunk. Miminy took one more look around, scanning carefully, almost tediously, and skittered after their companion.