Why do people persist in thinking they want lots and lots of Aeslin mouse stories? They're comic relief in someone else's story. On their own, they're a horrible tragedy unfolding in slow motion, rendered funny only because they're talking mice.

The colony we encounter in the InCryptid books is one of the last left in the world. They're cut off from any others who exist. As far as they know, they're alone. When they die, it's over.

They keep genealogical records stretching back ten generations, and enforce them in a draconian manner. Sorry you can't be with your true love, sweetie, he's your third cousin and we're losing genetic diversity.

Even keeping this in mind, genetic bottlenecking is getting to them. About half their babies die before they can talk.

Everything is bigger than them. Everything wants to kill them. Their gods are living creatures, and THEY CAN DIE. Suicides in the colony spike 300% whenever a Price falls in the field...and the family is dying out.

I love the mice. But they're a slow-motion tragedy, and when I actually write from their POV, no one is happy.