Clang-clang went the spoon bell. Pipwick stepped through the twig arch at forest school just as children rushed by with baskets and boots. Pipwick curled into a tight ball beside a stump and looked at the sunny yellow meadow beyond the door.
When the teacher rolled out the acorn-painting trays, Pipwick uncurlled and padded to the table. Red, blue, and gold paint waited in little jars. Then a laugh popped and a pinecone bonked to the floor. Pipwick tucked under the edge of the bench again.
Pipwick peeked out and tried a new spot by the window. But two children swooshed past in leaf capes, and the paint water wobbled in its tin cups. Pipwick gripped one smooth acorn and whispered, “Maybe later,” while a bright drip slid down the table.
At the far end of the table, another child sat all alone with an empty tray. Just then, a painted acorn slipped and rolled. Splat! It stamped a silly blue dot right on Pipwick’s nose. Pipwick blinked, then made a tiny snorty laugh and picked up an extra brush.
Before Pipwick could curl up again, Pipwick walked over and held out the brush. “Want this?” Pipwick asked. The other child looked up and nodded. A green acorn tapped Pipwick’s blue-dotted one with a soft clink.
Soon they painted side by side, making wobbly stripes and spotty acorns. The spoon bell jingled again for snack time. Pipwick carried the tray to the mat with the other child. The room still sounded busy, but now the swish of brushes and clink of cups made space for Pipwick too.