Swish, Splash, Moon

Dusk folds softly over the riverbank. Pebble holds Mama Otter’s paw. “Let’s find where the moon sleeps.” Her whiskers give one small wobble.

Tall grass stands in their way. Pebble peers into the dim green. Then she lifts one paw. Swish. Swish. Swish. She leads them through.

“Is the moon here?” “Not here. On we go.” Mama Otter’s paw stays steady. Pebble takes the next step.

Cold stones cross the path. Pebble’s whiskers wobble twice. She steps up. Clip. Clop. Clip. She steps down the other side.

“Is the moon here?” “Not here. On we go.” “Bedtime has excellent hiding skills,” says Mama Otter. Pebble gives a tiny snort.

A willow droops across the path. Underneath is darker still. Hushhh. Pebble squeezes Mama Otter’s paw. Then she steps beneath the leafy curtain.

“Is the moon here?” “Not here. On we go.” Pebble says it first this time. Beyond the willow, the trees open.

The pond gleams ahead. Something round sleeps in the water. Where is the moon? THERE it is. “Is the moon here?” “It is here. Home we go.”

Back under the willow they creep. The leaves barely stir. Hush. Pebble’s whiskers are still.

Over the stones, Pebble’s steps slow. Clip. Clop. The last clip stays tucked inside.

At the tall grass, Pebble grows heavy. Before the final swish, her eyes close. Swish… Mama Otter carries her home.

Moonlight rests across Pebble’s nose. “Hush, moon. Pebble is sleeping,” whispers Mama Otter.

The End