Otis had meant to do his morning round the same way he always did: across the yard, along the stone path by the bridge, then back to the barn before the sun climbed too high. He liked the steadiness of it. The path was cool under his paws, the brook chatted below, and nobody usually bothered him before breakfast.
But this morning, something bright winked at him from beside the bridge.
Tiny mushrooms—no bigger than buttons—had pushed up in a tight cluster right where the stone path curved past the bridge rail. They gave off a soft green glow, as if a bit of moonlight had stayed behind in the grass. Pippa was already there, leaning in close with her little scarf tipped forward. Milo stood on the cobblestones by the brook, tail curled, peering at them as if they were a trick meant for his amusement.
“Don’t poke them!” Pippa said.
“Why not? Maybe they’re lantern mushrooms,” Milo said. “Maybe they light the bridge at night!”
Otis stopped with one paw half-raised. The mushrooms were right in the farm’s usual path, where boots, paws, and carts crossed every day. That made them seem less like a surprise and more like a thing that mattered.
He lowered himself beside them and looked closely. The glow was real. Bright. Not a trick of dew or sun.
Pippa and Milo both turned to him, waiting.
Otis could keep staring, or he could tell them what to do next.
What happens next?
Sign in to rate
