Milo scurries across the meadow, dragging a cracker crumb twice her size.
She drops it at her burrow doorway, where seeds and nuts already wait. 'One more day of summer,' she squeaks.
Largo lounges on a dandelion puff, kicking his feet. 'Come play!' he calls.
Milo carries another twig past him. She keeps walking.
Leaves tumble gold through the air. Milo stuffs a dried mushroom into a wall crevice and pats it flat.
Largo hops over, sniffs the pile, and grabs a hazelnut. 'All mine,' he whispers.
Snow falls thick and silent, burying the meadow in white.
Milo steps into her burrow — warm, stocked, and cozy.
A soft knock. Milo peeks out. Largo stands shivering, his fur dusted white. 'I forgot to store anything,' he squeaks.
Milo looks at his blue nose, then steps aside. 'Come in,' she says, and piles a blanket over his shoulders.
Milo and Largo sit by a small fire, cracking nuts and munching dried berries.
'Thank you,' he murmurs. Outside, the wind howls. Inside, it's soft and golden and full.
