Good morn Little Mouse Greets Old Oak—Short Story by Victoria Beata

Peeping out from behind the gnarled roots of Old Oak, Little Mouse, with eyes bright as dewdrops, whispered cheerily to the new day, "Oh, what splendid morning light graces the world! What cheer, Old Oak, what cheer!"

Old Oak, wise and deep-rooted, murmured back with a voice like the rustle of leaves, "Good morn to you, tiny herald of dawn. The forest awakes; what tales will you gather in your scurrying today?"

Little Mouse, with a whisker-twitch of delight, replied, "I shall venture forth to gather tales of the whispering winds and the dancing shadows and perhaps a crumb or two from the picnic grounds if luck is with me this morning."

"Go well, little seeker," rustled Old Oak, "and may the gentle breezes guide your way, and the shadows play kindly at your heels."

With a quick nod of thanks, Little Mouse darted out, her little heart full of the promise of the day, leaving only the lightest trace of her passage among Old Oak's mighty roots.