Bramble tumbles headfirst through the tall meadow grass—CRASH! Three mushroom stools tip over right as the other cubs shuffle past the round door.
An acorn skids out of her paw, bouncing, bouncing, bouncing down the crooked stepping stones. The cubs don't look back. It vanishes under the fallen stools.
"Oh no!" Bramble gasps, ears flat. She stares under the fallen stools where the acorn vanished.
Bramble scrambles up the path, paws slapping stone after stone after stone. The acorn is already gone. The schoolhouse door hangs shut, smelling of pine.
She peers under the toppled stools. Only soft moss and one tiny beetle. The acorn is nowhere.
Bramble sits on the round doorstep, two empty paws stretched out. The schoolhouse looms, painted windows glowing soft orange. She thinks: where did it go?
Creak. The door swings wide. A small badger cub with a daisy tucked behind one ear steps onto the last stepping stone.
The badger cub tilts its head, plucks the acorn free from under a stool, and holds it out, palm up. "I found this." Bramble's tail gives one quick, surprised flick.
Bramble reaches out and tucks the still-sun-warm acorn into her cheek. She hops inside. The badger cub follows, bonking its nose against the painted bumblebee on the wall.
Floorboards tick and tock under their paws. Bramble's tail wags slow and steady. The two cubs stand in the warm orange glow of the painted windows.
