Alex sets the branch down on a heavily snow-covered patch of ground. Not much living matter in snow. He touches the dead and cooling mouse to the branch for a few seconds.

Nothing happens.

"I'm not about to go handling it without gloves, but I think we're safe," says Alex, then sighs, looking at where the knife pierced the mouse. "I'm going to have to check the poison traps." He needs one in one piece in order to cut it up. Scientists are weird.