Mama laid down a bundle of soft moss in the den. “A new baby otter is coming,” she said. Mimble dropped his shiny pebble with a clink. “In here?”
Mimble scooted the shiny pebble to one corner, then another. Then Mimble tucked it by the reed tunnel game. Mimble patted Mama’s lap with one paw and frowned. Only a little patch was left by the warm moss.
Mimble helped carry reeds, smooth stones, and fluffy feathers into the den. But every new thing made it look smaller. “Soon there won’t be room for splashing at all,” Mimble huffed. Then a feather landed on Mimble’s nose. “AH-CHOO!”
Mimble dragged a long reed mat into place. BOING! It flipped up and tossed pebbles in a funny little rain. Mimble scrambled after the clattering pebbles. One tiny pebble stopped beside the baby nest.
A small squeak came from the mossy nest. Mimble crept close. The new baby otter wiggled into view, no bigger than a loaf of river bread. Water dripped softly from the roof. Very gently, Mimble set the shiny pebble beside the baby.
Mimble slid onto Mama’s lap, with the baby tucked on the other side. Mimble lifted one paw toward the bright stream. “I’ll show you the slow swirls first,” Mimble whispered. Outside, the river flashed silver. The den felt full of little snuggles and big splashy plans.
