Running Into Trouble

"I don't see anyone, do you?" An armored soldier asked another.

"Sure don't, they probably all ran off when they heard us come'n, those louts are as cowardly as a field mouse."

Groups of soldiers were marching in lockstep with each other, flaming torches in hand, lighting the darkening streets with flickering orange light. The shining city, Säravast, was now under martial law. As the sun disappeared behind the horizon, so did the soldiers' patience. Anyone, be it beggar or merchant, caught outside after dark were immediately apprehended then thrown into a holding cell under suspicions of sedition.

The first soldier stopped in his tracks, the torch he was holding fluttering in the chilly, winter breeze. "Wait, are field mice really cowards?"

"C'mon, it's just a saying."

"I've never heard that one before."

"It's just somethin' my Pa would say every now and then, and I can't believe you're hung up on that of all things."