Pip the hedgehog froze behind a toadstool. A baby bird tumbled from the oak branch above and let out a tiny desperate peep. His mouth opened — but only a squeak came out.
He pulled himself into a tight prickly ball. The hedgehog shivered behind the toadstool. 'I have to help,' he thought.
Pip uncurled and marched toward the oak. He tried to chirp encouragement but his voice cracked and he tripped over a knobby root into a pile of crunchy leaves. The bird hopped onto a toadstool and tilted its head.
A sudden gust of wind snatched the baby bird and tumbled it toward the bramble bush. Pip darted forward. His spines flared.
He shoved through the prickly branches and scooped the bird up. The bramble scratched his nose. 'Got you,' he squeaked.
Pip scrambled up the oak trunk. His tiny paws slipped on the bark. The wind howled below. He kept climbing.
Pip placed the bird gently into the nest. The mother swooped down and wrapped them both in a warm brown wing.
The mother nuzzled Pip's nose with her beak. 'Thank you,' she chirped. Pip blinked and smiled.
The next morning, Pip stood tall at the edge of his hiding spot. Sunlight warmed his quills. He felt brave.
He called out a loud hello to a passing squirrel. His voice rang clear through the sunlit forest.
