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While no rat in their right mind would willingly approach a snake, Rats were arguably not quite sane of mind, and Salbjörg wasn't exactly a snake. Which might've explained why the rat didn't even flinch when Sal stopped and looked straight down at it. It simply continued to hold up the soggy piece of bread above its head in a silent show of camaraderie. 

Then the serpent struck. 

The rat was unceremoniously swept off its tiny little feet in one smooth motion, and [i]that's[/i] when the panic set in. It had just been caught by a [i]predator! [/i]Oh, what a cruel world! Only one kind of fate could await it now; the sting of sharp teeth, and the—

[i]-Plop-[/i]

[i]—the suffocating softness of some sort of valley of death—! [/i]

Wait—

A few moments spent struggling, wiggling and squirming later, the rat realized it was no longer sinking, and most definitely not dying. In fact, wherever it now found itself was... quite comfortable, all things considered. So comfortable, in fact, that the rat leaned back, crossed its feet, and embraced its new home, right here between the Twin Peaks of Mount Squishymanjaro.

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