Miku's New Listening Ears

Miku’s fluffy tail twitched with a joy that had nothing to do with finding a magical carrot and everything to do with the familiar scent of home. The forest floor, usually a tapestry of exciting new smells and scurrying creatures, felt like a warm hug after his chilly adventure. He bounded through the ferns, his heart thrumming a happy, slightly less impulsive beat. Elder Willow was waiting near the burrow entrance, her wise old eyes, usually crinkled with gentle amusement or mild exasperation, were fixed on the path. Miku almost skidded to a halt, a sudden urge to dig a hole and disappear bubbling up, but he pushed it down. He’d learned *something* in that cave, hadn’t he?

“Miku!” Elder Willow’s voice was a soft rustle of leaves. It wasn’t a scolding tone, but it held the weight of a thousand sunrises and countless winters.

Miku trotted up, his ears perked, not with defiance, but with a genuine desire to hear what she had to say. “Grandma!” he chirped, a little too loudly, but then he took a breath. “I’m back.”