The Robin’s Trinket There it lay on the forest floor, face up, wings outstretched, revealing ghastly holes where curved talons had savagely ripped ruby plumage from its breast. The immobile beak stabbed toward the swaying boughs of the majestic alders, which resembled pillars upholding the canopy of the wood. So it was that Doffy, the apprentice mouse herbalist of Oakleaf, discovered the robin. Wandering through the shifting shadows of the forest floor, Doffy nearly stumbled into the bird’s inert embrace. Fortunately, a trailing vine hung nearby, which the young mouse latched onto, stopping him completely. “Why thank you, friend”, the herbalist chattered, “I’m afraid if you hadn’t grabbed me there I would have gotten quite a nasty hug.” Doffy chuckled quietly to himself. Typically, the apprentice herbalist was quite saturnine, though when he was alone in the woods he would converse with anything that came to paw. “Hmm…not one for talking, are you? Tut, tut, you should learn to converse”, the young mouse chided the vine, then quickly changed moods upon seeing the robin’s prone form. Doffy scurried to support his unexpected patient’s head, murmuring about its lethal wounds. Suddenly, the bird’s eye flickered open. “Krr…Groundcrawler, waste not your time, my life is ebbing fast. Go, take this to my father, Windwing Everflight.” Gradually, the amber eye closed for the last time. Its talon opened, and dropped a small brown item into the leaves. * * * * * “Tragott, there is a dead robin lying in the leaves near the quaking alder.” Doffy burst into the council chamber of Oakleaf, tripped on a protruding root, and fell flat on his face. Tragott stifled a laugh by stroking his long grey beard, chuckling into his paw. An old mouse, grey haired with wisdom, respected by the inhabitants of the mouse settlement, Tragott’s word was hardly questioned by any creature. “So, if the bird is dead, then it is dead. There is nothing we can do for it, even with our knowledge of healing. Oakleaf mice have better tasks to preform then burying a bird, whose kind prey on our flesh. Nature will take its course.” Tragott had spoken. Crestfallen, Doffy trudged out of the hall. He wanted to do something for that poor bird. Wandering out of the oak tree, the herbalist heard a birdsong floating through the forest. Suddenly, Doffy remembered! Taking the robin-shaped necklace from his satchel, he examined the beautifully carved bird. That was it! He would climb to the sparrow colony in the upper eaves of the oak, which housed the mice settlement. Surely they would know how to find Windwing. Never backwards in going forwards, Doffy started the perilous ascent up the oak trunk. Partway up, the young mouse found some tasty mushrooms growing on a branch. “You boys look like you need something to do. How about a little trip down my mouth?” After finishing his snack, Doffy resumed his ascent. While the lower portions of the trunk had been easy, the upper parts were devoid of solid handholds. It was on one of these that Doffy’s paw slipped. Unintentionally looking down Doffy saw the immeasurable drop below.