Bram’s Unseen Gift — Before sunrise silvered the hill meadow, Bram set one paw into the wet grass and made himself a challenge: reach the far clover patch without bending a single flower. Read the full story →
Before sunrise silvered the hill meadow, Bram set one paw into the wet grass and made himself a challenge: reach the far clover patch without bending a single flower. The air smelled of rain and crushed mint. He moved slowly past daisies and fuzzy seed heads, whiskers twitching at every drip. Halfway across, a thorn snagged his ear fur. Bram held still, paid the price with three orange hairs, and slipped free.
At the clover patch, he found what he wanted—a round purple bloom for the hollow log where he kept his best things. Then a tiny squeak came from under the grass. A field mouse’s doorway had flooded, and her dry nest leaves were floating away. “Don’t tell the crows,” she whispered.
Bram nudged his clover stem across the mud like a little bridge, then tucked broad leaves over the mouse hole until the dripping slowed. He carried home no prize, only the damp green smell on his nose. But when sunlight reached the meadow, one purple clover stood missing for a reason nobody could see; can you spot the fox keeping the secret?
