Thistle pressed his nose against the dark opening of his burrow. Beyond the grass blades, the moonlit meadow shimmered. But the shadows looked like giant teeth, and he backed away.
A tiny golden light blinked just outside his doorway. Thistle held his breath, one paw hovering over the threshold. The firefly drifted closer, leaving warm yellow sparkles on the damp earth.
Thistle stepped one paw out, then the other. The firefly hovered at his nose level. He took a wobbly step forward, his claws clicking softly on a smooth stone.
He tapped the stone with his nose. Cool and solid. Thistle hopped onto it and the firefly zipped ahead, so he followed with his claws clicking.
They reached a tall clover. The shadow looked like a sleeping owl, but the firefly bumped its light against a leaf and the shadow shivered into a swaying weed. Thistle giggled.
The firefly led him into a patch of silver grass that whispered as he brushed past. He reached out a paw and the grass tickled his fingertip. Thistle walked forward with his head held high.
A sudden rustle came from the bramble patch. Thistle froze, his quills puffing out until he looked like a spiky dandelion. The firefly dove into the dark.
The firefly came out trailing a fluttering white moth that waved her wings in a slow hello. Thistle let out a breath and his quills settled flat.
The moth landed on his outstretched paw, tickling his fingertip before drifting away. Thistle watched her go, then turned toward the open meadow.
Thistle walked to the center of the meadow where the grass whispered. The firefly circled his head like a tiny moon. He lifted his nose and smelled sweet clover.
He lifted his nose and inhaled. Sweet clover and cool damp earth. Thistle let out a happy squeak while the firefly dipped low enough for him to trace its path with his claw.
He turned back toward home with the firefly glowing ahead. His paws moved steady and sure through the whispering grass.