Close your eyes and imagine the golden light of a late autumn afternoon,
Stretching across roaring hills.
The day is coming to a gentle close,
The horizon painted in soft strokes of amber and rose.
It's the kind of evening where the world feels calm,
As if holding its breath in quiet wonder.
A young girl walks along a familiar path,
Her little terrier trotting ahead.
The small dog moves with lively curiosity,
Her wary yet soft black and tan coat blending perfectly with the earthy tones of autumn.
Their walks are a beloved ritual,
A time to pause and enjoy the world before the day ends.
The girl hums softly,
Her boots crunching on scattered leaves and the dog's wagging tail moving like a tiny metronome,
Keeping time to their steps.
Ahead,
A hill rises gently,
Crowned by an ancient oak tree.
Its branches stretch wide like arms welcoming the sky,
Its rough bark with stories of centuries gone by.
The girl smiles as they climb.
The oak has always been a favourite,
A steadfast figure watching over her quiet world.
As they near the top,
A sudden gust of wind sends a chill through the air.
The girl pauses,
Glancing up at dark clouds gathering with surprising speed.
The little dog tilts her head,
Ears perked,
Sensing the change.
A single raindrop falls,
Cool against the girl's cheek,
And then another,
Until the sky opens in earnest.
The rain is sharp and cold,
Driven by a wind that rustles the trees in a frantic dance.
Thunder rumbles in the distance,
A low growl that rolls closer with each moment.
The girl pulls her coats tighter,
Shielding her small dog beneath it.
The dog presses closer to her side,
Her fur damp but resilient against the chill.
The girl whispers softly,
Don't worry,
We'll find somewhere safe.
The ancient oak looms ahead,
Its roots twisted into the hillside like fingers gripping the earth.
Beneath its wide base,
A dark hollow yawns open,
Shadowy but inviting.
With the storm pressing in around them,
There's no time to hesitate.
The girl crouches low,
Guiding her dog into the hollow.
Inside the world changes.
The storm's roar becomes a muffled hum,
Distant and almost soothing.
The air is warmer,
Damp but calm.
The girl exhales in relief,
Sitting on the packed earth floor as her dog shakes the rain from her wiry coat,
Sending a fine mist into the air.
Her black and tan markings glint faintly in the dim light.
As the girl's eyes adjust to the dimness,
Something catches her attention.
At the far end of the hollow,
Where the tree roots curl down like a curtain,
A soft golden light spills out from the edges of a small wooden door.
The door is no taller than her knees,
Its surface smooth and weathered with age.
A tiny brass knocker shaped like an acorn gleams faintly in the warm glow.
The girl's breath catches.
She feels a flutter of curiosity mingled with caution.
What could be behind such a door,
Hidden in the heart of this ancient tree?
Her dog presses close to her leg,
Her tail wagging gently,
Her wiry fur brushing against the girl's knee.
For a moment the girl hesitates,
But the light seems to call her,
Offering a quiet reassurance.
Stealing her courage,
She reaches out and lifts the knocker,
Tapping it gently.
The door creaks open and the warm light spills brighter,
Illuminating a kind face.
A badger stands in the doorway,
His fur thick and soft,
His dark eyes twinkling behind a pair of round spectacles.
He wears a waistcoat of soft tweed,
Its tiny buttons glinting like stars.
Well now,
He says in a deep warm voice,
What have we here?
A young traveller and her faithful companion caught in a dreadful storm.
The girl nods,
Her voice caught somewhere between awe and relief.
The terrier lets out a hopeful bark,
Her blackened tan fur slightly ruffled but still full of energy,
And the badger chuckles,
Stepping aside.
Come in,
Come in,
He says.
No sense in standing out there when there's a warm fire waiting inside.
The girl steps through the door and into a space that feels like a dream.
Mr.
Tallybush's home is cosy and inviting,
Glowing with a golden light.
Shelves line the walls,
Holding jars of dried herbs,
Polished stones,
And tiny wooden carvings.
A fire crackles in the hearth,
Its warmth wrapping around her like an embrace.
The air smells of honey and wood smoke,
Mingled with the faintest hint of lavender.
Mrs.
Tallybush appears from the side room,
A plump badger with a sweet smile.
She wears a soft apron tied over a flowing skirt,
Her paws dusted with flour.
Behind her toddle two small badgers in matching wooden jumpers,
One a cheery red and the other a deep forest green.
Goodness me,
Mrs.
Tallybush exclaims,
Bustling over with a thick blanket.
You poor thing,
Stretched to the bone.
Sit by the fire,
Dear,
And we'll have you warm in no time.
The girl is ushered to a thick cushioned chair by the hearth.
Mr.
Tallybush fetches a towel to try the dog,
Who wags her tail gratefully.
Soon a steaming mug of tea is placed in the girl's hands,
Sweetened with honey and scented with cinnamon.
A plate of warm biscuits,
Still soft from the oven,
Is offered and she takes one,
Filling the warm seep into her very core.
The small badgers giggle as they offer the dog a little dish of warm milk,
Which she laps up eagerly,
Her wiry coat gleaming in the firelight.
As the storm rages outside,
Mr.
Tallybush settles into a well-worn armchair,
His voice low and soothing.
Let me tell you a story,
He begins.
It's about another storm,
Much like this one,
And a small bird who found herself caught in its fury.
The tale unfolds,
A story of a bird blown far from her nest,
Who found shelter and kindness amongst the creatures of the forest.
The squirrel shared his cozy burrow,
The deer offered soft moss for a bed,
And the wise owl guided her home beneath the sky full of stars.
You see,
Mr.
Tallybush concludes,
The storm didn't defeat the bird,
It made her stronger,
Taught her the courage to ask for help,
And showed her the kindness of others.
The girl feels a warm glow,
Not just from the fire,
But from the gentle truth of the story.
Mrs.
Tallybush rises,
Placing a soft paw on her shoulder.
You've had quite an adventure,
My dear,
Let's get you and your little one tucked in for the night.
A small bed is prepared near the fire,
Layered with soft blankets that smell faintly of lavender and dried leaves.
The dog curls up first,
Her tiny body relaxing in the warmth,
While the girl snuggles beneath the covers,
Her eyelids growing heavy.
Mr.
Tallybush adjusts the blankets around her.
Rest now,
He says softly,
The storm will pass and tomorrow will guide you both home.
For now,
Build your strength and dream of clear skies ahead.
The fire crackles softly,
Its glow painting golden patterns on the walls of the Tallybush home.
The girl feels the warmth of the blankets wrapped around her,
The gentle rhythm of her dog's breathing beside her,
And the comforting presence of her newfound friends nearby.
Outside the storm softens to a faint whisper,
The rain a soothing lullaby against the sturdy oak.
As her eyes grow heavier,
Mr.
Tallybush words echo in her mind.
Rest now,
The storm will pass and tomorrow I'll guide you home.
For now,
Dream of clear skies and brighter days ahead.
And so the girl drifts into a peaceful sleep,
Safe and warm,
Cradled by the kindness of the Tallybush family.
Her little dog shifts slightly at her side,
Her wari coat brushing against the girl's hand,
As they both surrender to the quiet magic of the night.
Now let yourself feel the same warmth and comfort.
Imagine the firelight flickering softly,
The weight of the day melting away,
And the promise of a new dawn waiting just beyond the horizon.
Goodnight.
