[The last thing Aziraphale had expected when he'd found the small, discarded box, noticed the subtle weight of it, and opened it to see if the matches were still inside was a well-dressed mouse capable of speech and sentient thought. He certainly wasn't afraid of mice in the least, but the sheer surprise of it all made him give a small yelp and almost fumble the box before wrapping his fingers around it more securely. He gaped for a moment, like a goldfish in a bowl, before catching himself and shaking off the shock and nodding.]
Oh, Goodness, yes, certainly! [He reached in gingerly to pull out one of the matches and struck it, instantly feeling relief against the cold that normally wouldn't have given him much fuss as he held it as close to the box as he felt was safe, given it's dry, papery, flammable construction.] You may be able to feel the warmth more out here, while it lasts.
[He would have offered to allow the mouse-person to hide from the cold inside of his waistcoat pocket, but his waistcoat had been taken by the city months ago, and he wouldn't be caught out in public in the atrocious thing he'd been given in it's place. Ah well. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say.]
A
Oh, Goodness, yes, certainly! [He reached in gingerly to pull out one of the matches and struck it, instantly feeling relief against the cold that normally wouldn't have given him much fuss as he held it as close to the box as he felt was safe, given it's dry, papery, flammable construction.] You may be able to feel the warmth more out here, while it lasts.
[He would have offered to allow the mouse-person to hide from the cold inside of his waistcoat pocket, but his waistcoat had been taken by the city months ago, and he wouldn't be caught out in public in the atrocious thing he'd been given in it's place. Ah well. Hindsight is 20/20, as they say.]