Spot dug through the heap of debris with his bare hands.The chamber was filled with the echoing sounds of clunking of metals as he threw unwanted chunks to the wayside. He was a rodent, with the way he furrowed through the trash with his tiny hands. He wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he knew that he had to dig.
Down the hall from the chamber that Spot was occupying, Clarissa was fumbling with a strange object. It was cylindrical and metallic with markings etched into its surface, as if deliberately placed there. What ever the object was, she was pretty sure that she could trade it for some food or something.
An hour went by and Spot was still digging. By this point, Spots hands were covered in cuts and scrapes, but he kept digging. He was adamant.
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