Sami hopped out of his burrow and pressed his nose to the tree line. A blue butterfly flitted past — then vanished behind the trunks.
He took a small hop toward the dark shade. His belly pressed low against the cool earth as he moved.
He tiptoed through ferns and over rough bark. A twig snapped sharp behind him. Sami froze — ears swiveling like little doors listening.
The butterfly glinted gold in the dappled light and landed on a smooth gray stone beyond the roots. Sami scrambled forward and hopped onto it.
The ground dropped away. The forest opened like a curtain pulled back, and before Sami stood a narrow stream.
Sunlight threw diamonds across the surface. One winks — a tiny fish jumps, splashes, and sends a ripple rolling straight to Sami's paws.
He gasped and hopped backward. The ripple lapped at his toes. Cool and wet. Sami sat down slowly, one paw inches from the water.
Sami dragged his paw through the stream and watched ripples chase each other. He hopped along the bank, then turned and looked back. His burrow was still there — but the forest edge looked different now.