Spring sun soaks the meadow gold. Fresh eggs dot the clover grass. A tangle of lollipops and chocolate bunnies spills out of the little burrow, rolling slow and bright.
THUMP. Clover hits the candy pile headfirst. His ears flatten. He yanks a fistful of lollipops to his chest and stamps one big paw on the dirt.
He shoved a wobbly egg aside with his whole body. Butter and wildflowers filled the air. He thought, MINE! Then he hammered a lollipop into the dirt like a flag.
Pat. Pat. Pat. Three times, Clover tapped his candy wall and grinned wide. But the lollipops rolled. The chocolate bunnies tipped. One strawberry slipped under a flat rock, out of paw-reach.
Crunch, crumble, crunch. He wriggled on his belly, tongue lolling out. He thought, mine… The sun buzzed on the meadow above, and the crumbly wall kept falling.
A tiny field mouse stepped from the tall grass, her flat black nose twitching. She tugged gently at Clover's paw. He whipped around and swatted with a huge fluffy paw.
She dodged. Sniffed the candy-scented air. Sat on her haunches, round ears tilted forward, staring at his mountain. Krrt? Soft. Hungry.
Clover held one chocolate bunny high, both paws trembling. Then — plop — into her tiny open paws. She blinked. Tore the bunny in half. Held one piece out to him.
A single bee hummed past. Clover stared at the offered half, then at his still-whole pile. His mouth fell open. One big paw stretched out, careful.
Side by side in sun-warmed grass, they chewed slow and sweet. Squeak-tap-squeak went her little feet. Stomp went his big paws. Crisp crunch. His pile smaller. His grin wider.