Pip squeezed through a tangle of brambles. Something golden shimmered between the wildflowers.
A soft golden pulse came from a cluster of berries. Pip padded closer on quiet feet.
A flash of blue feathers darted down. The bird chirped, 'The biggest berry is up the meadow path!'
Pip watched the feathers disappear. Then he set off toward the sound of running water.
Pip followed the babbling brook and found a brown ear peeking from behind a toadstool.
'You're looking for a special berry,' the rabbit whispered, then hops backward and disappears into the reeds.
The water tinkles and Pip walks on. A mossy green head rises slowly from a sun-warmed stone.
'The berry waits where the hawthorn bows,' the turtle rumbles, then sinks back into his shell.
Pip nods and scuttles toward a low, drooping hawthorn bush. A round berry sits on the highest twig, glowing like a tiny lantern.
Pip stretches, stretches, and the branch springs down — the berry pops free and lands with a soft squish right in his paw.
A warm, sweet-smelling light spills out and wraps around him. Pip looks up.
The blue bird, the rabbit, and the old turtle sit at the edge of the light. 'We all came,' the bird says. The golden glow settles over them all like a blanket.