Credit: 1ms.net/end-of-winter-97714.html

I kept Orion company and breathed the cool fragrances of the night. I watched the owl bring a mouse to her fluffy muppets. Distracted by their bobbing heads when their mother left, I did not notice the rose tinge on the horizon and the light blue seeping into the sky. Only when the first searing ray struck the top of the tree in front of me, was I reminded of how much earlier the sun rose each day.

I ran from his terrible face, crushing anemones, torn by brambles, my lungs burning in my chest reminding me what the sun could do to my flesh. Even though I strained my legs, the light strolled closer and my cave was still too far away. Sobbing, I raked my cheeks, why could the sun not sleep all year long?

Then I remembered an old badger’s den nearby. I turned and dashed towards it while the light crept towards the top of my head. I dived into the den, as the sun peeked over the hill and saw my left foot still outside. My foot burned and withered and I screamed and scrambled into the den as far as I could go. Whimpering, I pushed more dirt into the opening. Having blocked out the beautiful glare of the sun, I curled into a ball, trembling, and mourned the end of winter.