The White Feather

I come out of the den. The grass is cold and wet under my feet. It's my first time outside.

A white feather comes down in front of my nose. I put my paw on it. It's soft. Then the wind takes it away.

I run after the feather. It goes past the big tree, and I go past the big tree. It goes into a green bush and stops there.

I pull the feather out with my teeth. Now it's free. The wind takes it up, up, up, over the trees. I can't go there. I can only watch.

Behind me, my mother calls. The den is a long way back now.

I look at the sky one more time. Then I turn around and run home, following the smell of my mother.