Forest Encounter

one morning, Toad was venturing along his normal path through the woods when he heard the sound of quiet, stiff sobs somewhere in the distance. concerned, he decided to follow the sound.

in a clearing in the woods he stumbled across the source: a small, brown field mouse stood among a patch of dried leaves, his shoulders quivering and his delicate face blotched with tears.

Toad approached slowly. When Mouse still hadn’t noticed his presence after a few steady breaths, Toad cleared his throat.

“Ahem,” he said. “Excuse me.”

Mouse became suddenly very still, then turned slowly towards the voice. he flinched. Toad was approximately the same size as Mouse but in place of soft, bristly brown fur he had lumpy skin the color of mud. his head was misshapen and asymmetrical, but his lips were turned upwards in a gentle half-smile. Mouse’s stance softened upon seeing the kindly expression on Toad’s face.

“Oh, hi,” said Mouse, tears dripping from the edges of his whiskers. “I’m sorry. a-am i in your way?'“

“Not at all,” said Toad. “In fact, i’ve got nowhere to be. But i heard some awfully distraught sounds coming from this direction and thought i’d swing by to see if there was anything i could do to help.”

Mouse swallowed, tears welling up in his eyes again. “oh,” he said. “that’s awfully kind.”

Toad waited for a moment, taking in full sight of Mouse. Mouse was soothed by the sound of Toad’s slow, croaky breath echoing through the forest air.

finally Mouse let out a long, shaky sigh. “my sister died last week,” he sobbed. “right here, at this patch of leaves. we were out looking for seeds after the first winter thaw, and a snake was hiding under the leaves waiting for us. it all happened so fast-” Mouse paused to wipe away tears. “I didn’t even have a chance to say goodbye-”

“Oh dear,” said Toad. he edged slowly closer to Mouse, unsure if or how to comfort him. his arms were too long relative to Mouse’s for them to embrace elegantly, but he wanted to give it a try anyway. lifting one arm as he attempted to balance the bulk of his weight against his hind legs, he carefully, shakily reached towards Mouse.

Mouse froze as Toad’s head neared his own. He was having a sudden flashback to the previous week, visualizing the snake’s determined, hungry face in his mind. He noticed how both Toad and Snake had eyes sitting on top of their heads which darted quickly from side to side. But then, after taking a deep breath, Mouse relaxed and allowed Toad to embrace him clumsily, with first one, and then - after he’d stabilized his balance - both arms. Toad’s legs buttressed him high over Mouse’s back; Mouse buried his head into Toad’s bumpy chest.

“There, there,” said Toad, patting Mouse’s back with a webbed foot. And the two of them stood there holding each other just like that, awkward and imperfect but holding each other all the same.