On a lonely road under the moonlit sky, a small rat darted through the shadows. He was hungry, desperate, and unaware that danger slithered nearby.
High above, the stars sparkled as if warning him—but the rat only saw the crumbs ahead. A snake, cold and silent, glided across the roadside grass, eyes locked on the tiny creature. It had waited patiently all night. Now was the moment.
The rat stopped near a crack in the road, sniffing. The snake lunged—silent lightning. But just then, a loud screech echoed from above. A kite swooped down from the sky, talons wide, mistaking both creatures for easy prey.
Startled, the snake twisted mid-strike, missing the rat. The rat leapt aside, narrowly avoiding death. The bird soared away, empty-taloned, into the endless night.
Both predator and prey froze. In that brief second under the open sky, they understood—the road didn’t belong to either of them. It belonged to fate.
The rat scurried away, vanishing into the grass. The snake slithered back into the shadows, waiting for another chance.
And above, the stars watched silently, as they always do.