In the heart of the forest, where sunlight dripped through the leaves like honey, Luna sat nestled inside her woven cup of twigs. The forest was quiet, and Luna thought this was the safest place in all the world.
CRASH! Three men burst through the thicket, their guns glinting like cold silver in the sun. The thunderous noise sent Luna winging upward, her heart pounding, out into the pale sky.
Luna landed trembling on a low branch. Before her stood a rabbit with a torn ear, a fox with mud-caked paws, and an owl with ruffled feathers. They were all lost and scared. Luna thought: they feel just as I feel.
'Follow me,' Luna called, and took to the sky again. She led them through scratchy brambles and a shallow stream that splashed against their feet. Then a squirrel scampers ahead, a bright blue feather held proudly in its teeth.
They reached a hollow beneath ancient roots. It smelled of damp earth and safety. But then — CLANG — a metallic sound echoed from the ridge above. Luna's tiny wings froze mid-flutter.
On the ridge above, the three men were coming again, boots heavy, guns in hand. They had found the forest. They had found them.
Luna's wings shook, but she did not run. She thought of the rabbit's torn ear, the fox's mud-caked paws, the owl's ruffled feathers — all trusting her. She gathered every atom of her courage.
With a gasp of pure courage, Luna darted downward. She pecked at a dangling vine frantically — once, twice, three times — and the vine snapped.
CRASH! A cascade of dry leaves and acorns thundered down the slope. The men jumped, their guns clattering to the ground as they turned and ran.
The men fled into the trees, their footsteps fading. Luna landed softly on the hollow's rim and looked down at her friends. They were safe.
The rabbit curled against the fox. The owl perched above them all. Luna rested her head against a warm, familiar stone.
The crickets began to hum their soft song. Luna closed her eyes and listened. The forest was still theirs. They would stay. They would be safe.