Pat The Badger

Previously

…They walked back through the woods, the moon high above. When they reached Greg’s garden, the three flowers were glowing brighter than ever. Greg carefully collected a single seed from each one and placed them in a small pouch. That night, as he lay in bed, he stared at the pouch on his nightstand. The seeds hummed softly, like a lullaby. He felt a strange pull, as if the woods were calling him. And in the deep shadows under the roots of the forest, something stirred. A low, rumbling voice whispered, “They are coming. Prepare the dark.” Outside, the silver feather trembled in Greg’s paw, and the glow flickered for just a moment.