In the hush of a winter field, a mother mouse listens for a plow that has not yet arrived. This is our compass: Mrs. Brisby, a timid widow whose quiet grit is about to turn paralyzing fear into desperate motion. Her world is a cinder block home, chilled by the night air, where she tends to a fevered child as the bumbling crow Jeremy flutters in and the Great Owl waits in vaulted shadows.
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