Bramble found five smooth grey stones in the meadow. One by one, he stacked them into a tower. It wobbled, tipped, and crashed into the tall grass.
'I can do it,' Bramble said, and began again. He made a wider base, placing each stone with careful paws. But the middle stone slid sideways — the tower fell with a loud clatter.
Stones rolled toward the fence. Bramble stamped one tiny foot. A wildflower bent from the stamp.
Bramble tried a third time, building higher. A breeze rushed through the meadow — whoosh — and the tower toppled again. One stone bumped straight into the burrow entrance.
Bramble dropped to his knees in the clover. His jaw tightened. He covered his face with both paws.
Bramble sat still until the breeze faded and the meadow went quiet again. He stood, took a slow breath, and placed the first stone flat on the ground.
One by one, he set each stone, testing it with his nose before letting go. Click. Click. Click.
The tower reached higher, steadier, taller than any before it. It stood solid and tall beside the burrow, five smooth stones glowing in the sun.
