User blog:BeholdtheVision/Never Give Up Hope- A Root Short Story

"Hope Is The Thing With Feathers"



Never Give Up Hope
The first thing Hydrangea saw that morning was an eagle.

It nested high above him, appearing very comfortable. It hadn't noticed him yet. Hydrangea tensed and backed up slowly.

If I'm really quiet, it won't hear-

Krak!

The bird of prey swiveled his silent glare to Hydrangea.'' Vole breath! ''Then, with a "Caw!" it lunged at him.

As he ran away as fast as he could, Hydrangea could not suppress a scream. His eyes flew open, and Hydrangea realized he was safe in his nest.

It was just a dream.

Relief washed over him like water over stone. He was safe and sound, with no eagle waiting to kill him.

"Another nightmare, I presume?" A voice said smoothly. Hydrangea whirled around, his lips forming a snarl, and than relaxed. It was only Cedar, his teller.

"The same one," he replied wearily. "Have you deciphered it yet?"

Cedar stared at him, long and hard. Suddenly, he drew closer and lowered his voice. "Promise me Hydrangea, no matter what I tell you, you'll never give up hope."

"Of course!" said Hydrangea, taken aback.

Cedar relaxed. "Then let us walk."

Bewildered, Hydrangea follow his Teller out the Waterfall. What's up with Cedar?

As they passed the river, Hydrangea saw his deputy, Crocus. Hydrangea waved at her, but Crocus was to absorbed with fishing to notice her friend.

Gradually,the Leader and his Teller reached the Nursery. It was quiet and lonely, and since there were currently no Mothers or Cubs, the perfect place for a secret chat.

"Now, are you ready to tell me what this is all about?" asked Hydrangea as he got comfortable in an old nest of feathers.

Cedar closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them, they were filled with knowledge Hydrangea knew he'd never be able to fully percieve. "There is change coming. Violent Change. It will disturb our peaceful lives and send them whirling into a storm of chaos and dissent."

The words hit Hydrangea like a blow to the snout."Wh-what kind of change?"

Cedar straightened out. "That, I'm afraid, is for you to discover." His message delivered, Cedar lumbered out of the Nursery, leaving Hydrangea to his confused thoughts.

What could this mean? Would his tribe truly be disrupted forever? Unfortunately, Cedar had never been wrong yet. Finding nothing left to think or do, Hydrangea slipped out of the den. ''Some good hunting will do me good. ''

A squirrel and two voles later, Hydrangea sat quietly on a ledge beside the waterfall with Crocus. Since Cedar's ominous words, Hydrangea's thoughts had gotten more and more disturbed. He saw visions of his tribe extinguished forever, of bears never glancing their beautiful moon ever again. Hydrangea began to shake, unable to hold his frantic thoughts.

"Hydrangea!" cried Crocus, "What's the matter?"

"Can't!!"he murmured, "Can't!"

"Hy-RG!" Crocus let out a pained wail as, in her distraction, she fell off the slippery ledge and towards the raging waterfall. "Hydrangea!" her voice rang out terrified. She barely managed to grab the ledge with her claws. She could not hold on much longer.

Hydrangea was still absorbed in his exaggerated thoughts of annihilation, and did not notice the peril of his friend.

Cedar emerged from the waterfall. Looking up, his eyes grew wide. "No." he murmured.

Meanwhile, Hydrangea writhed uncontrollably. One vision seemed to be griwing clearer than the rest. A vision of Crocus about to fall. "No!" he yelled and grabbed her scruff with his teeth. with a muffled roar, he pulled her up onto the ledge, where the two lay panting.

"Hydrangea," Crocus said drowsily. "You gave me quite the scare there."

"I gave you a scare?" he said incredulously and the two laughed.

Panting, they dragged themselves up to the very top, and watched the relieved tribe head to their nests.

"I had almost lost hope." Hydrangea heard Crocus murmur.

Hope.

Hydrangea had almost forgotten.

He had promised to never give up hope. And he'd failed.

Or had he?

Crocus's fall must have been a desperate ploy of his ancestors to bring him back hope. And he would never lose it again.

As he snuggled closer to Crocus, watching the moon, and hoping for the future, a bird passed overhead. strong, resilent, and vigilant.