A Sleepy Elephant

Tiggy padded on, his little tiger paws sinking slightly into the soft, mossy ground. The jungle was quieter than usual, a hushed stillness that prickled his fur. He’d already tried to play with Kiki the parrot, but Kiki had just ruffled his emerald and sapphire feathers and let out a soft, sleepy squawk before tucking his head under his wing. Then he’d sought out Mika the monkey, who had been curled up in a ball at the base of a giant banyan tree, his long tail wrapped around him like a fuzzy blanket. Mika had only managed a sleepy yawn, his eyes closing before Tiggy could even ask him to chase butterflies.

Now, he was looking for Elly the elephant. Elly was always such fun! He was big and strong, and he could spray water with his trunk, which Tiggy loved to splash in. But as Tiggy rounded a bend in the path, his whiskers twitched. There, under the wide, protective branches of an ancient fig tree, was Elly. He was enormous, his grey skin wrinkled and wise, and he was… swaying. Gently, back and forth, back and forth. His eyes were closed, his long trunk resting on the ground. He wasn’t playing. He wasn’t trumpeting. He was napping.

Tiggy tiptoed closer, his striped tail giving a little anxious flick. “Elly?” he whispered, his voice barely a puff of air. Elly didn’t stir. Tiggy nudged Elly’s enormous foot with his nose. It was warm and leathery, like the bark of a tree. Still, Elly only swayed a little more, a soft rumbling sound coming from deep within his chest. It wasn't a happy rumble, like when Elly was enjoying a juicy bunch of leaves. It was a sleepy rumble.