Across the mountains, in a far distant valley, life is lived differently than now and here. The air is calmer between people. There is room to smile. It is the land of the fire breathing mice.
Once, even there, mice were mice, and people were people. Mice were afraid of people, giant creatures, full of anxiety, loud noises, sudden death. They scurried to avoid these heavy-treading leviathans, much as the people scurried to avoid themselves.
Scurrying here, there, these people stepped on trembling mice with nary a thought, much as they stepped on each other. Thus it went. People stepping, mice dying, people dying. The mice trembled at even the sense of anxiety that burdened these people. A very anxious and trembling time.
But then the mice got fire.