Archer Armadillo figured his burrow was the best burrow in the whole state of Texas. It was warm. It was snug. And it had lots of rooms Archer could explore.
His grandfather–whom everyone, even Archer, called Old Paw–agreed with him. After all, the burrow had been Old Paw’s before Archer and his mother and his father and his twelve brothers all moved into it. Old Paw had lived there since he was small.
Sometimes, after Archer went exploring the burrow, he’d tell his grandfather what he found. And Old Paw would laugh or look surprised or scratch his belly.
Once, in one of the rooms, Archer found an empty shell of armor just like his own, only bigger and harder and dustier. When he told Old Paw, his grandfather slapped the ground and said, “Why, that must be my great-uncle Manus. We always wondered what happened to him.”