“One day, right next to the Mouse’s hole, a green sprout grew. Having blossomed, it turned into a beautiful flower. Now, every morning, getting out of the hole, the Mouse sniffed the delicate scent of Snowdrop and sat down next to his friend. Often they were simply silent, listening to the noise of the wind in the branches of the trees, the murmuring of the stream and what the birds were singing about. “Words, they only get in the way of making friends,” thought the Mouse...”