Pip rolled a pinecone down the meadow hill. It bumped against a small grey shape under the toadstool. Pip froze.
Pip stepped forward, holding out a blackberry. The grey shape flinched and pulled a leaf over its head. Pip's quills drooped.
Pip returned with a bright blue feather. He wiggled it in the air. The brook babbled nearby, but the leaf stayed pressed down.
Pip spotted something small and brown half-buried in the dirt. He dug it out carefully — a cracked acorn cap. He held it up.
The leaf slid away. Wide, wet eyes blinked up at him. It was a mouse.
Pip set the acorn cap beside the mouse. 'You lost this,' he thought.
Pip remembered the blackberry still in his other paw. He nudged it toward the mouse.
The mouse took the blackberry. It broke off a tiny piece and offered it back.
They crunch-crunch together. Sitting side by side under the toadstool. The meadow went quiet around them.
Crunch. Crunch. The quiet meadow was loud with it.