by Lily Small
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About the Author
Copyright Page
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With special thanks to Thea Bennett
CHAPTER ONE
A Good Little Mouse
Deep in the Heart of Misty Wood, there was an oak tree so tall its branches seemed to touch the sky. Its leaves were as green as emeralds, and they loved to dance in the breeze. The oak tree’s thick, knobby roots stretched deep into the soil and held the tree steady.
If you looked carefully, in between the tree roots, behind a cluster of tall green ferns, you would see a hole leading down to a cozy burrow. And if you looked very carefully indeed, you would see a little mouse sitting on the grass next to the hole. The mouse’s name was Mia, and she lived in the burrow with her mom and dad, her grandma, and her four baby brothers and sisters.
Mia was a Moss Mouse—one of the fairy animals of Misty Wood. Her beautiful fairy wings were transparent, just like a dragonfly’s, and when the sunshine touched them, they twinkled violet and green. Her fur was as golden as honey—except on her tummy, where it was snow white—and she had long, silky whiskers that wiggled and twirled whenever she was excited.
Mia was making a cushion from a ball of soft green moss.
“Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake!” she sang to herself as she rolled the moss along the ground and patted it into a nice round shape with her tiny pink paws.
Just like all the fairy animals of Misty Wood, the Moss Mice had a special job to do to make the wood a wonderful place to live. The mice made soft, squishy cushions out of moss and placed them all around the wood so the other fairy animals would have somewhere comfortable to sit.
“Pat, pat, pat!” Mia sang as she shaped the cushion.
“Hello, Mia!” a voice called.
There was a scrabbling noise from inside the hole, and a face with bright beady eyes and long silvery whiskers popped out. It was Mia’s dad.
“I’m afraid Grandma’s come down with a nasty case of the sniffles,” he said. “Will you go and keep her company? Mom’s busy with the babies, and I’ve got to go out and collect some more moss for our cushions.”
“Of course I will,” Mia said.
Mia’s dad gave her a twinkly-eyed smile. “You are a good little mouse! Perhaps you could tell Grandma one of your stories. I bet she would appreciate it.” And with that, he jumped out of the hole, twirled his whiskers, and unfurled his wings. They glinted silver in the sun. “See you at teatime!” Mia’s dad called as he flew off through the trees. He carried a big bag made from spider silk in his front paws.
Mia picked up her cushion and hurried underground. The passageway to the burrow was nice and cool and smelled of fresh earth. Mia’s whiskers began to twitch. Telling stories was her favorite thing in the whole wide world. She loved it even more than making cushions.
Mia scampered into the burrow. At one end, her mom was busy feeding the babies. At the other, Grandma was tucked into her bed of soft moss.
Mia hopped over to her. Grandma was curled up in the middle of the bed with her nose peeping over the edge. Normally, Grandma’s nose was pale pink, but today it was red. Mia got a little closer. Normally, Grandma’s black eyes shone and there was a happy smile on her face, but today her eyes were bleary and she looked sad.
“A-a-a-a-CHOO!” Grandma sneezed when she saw Mia.
“Bless you!” said Mia. She hopped onto the cushion she’d just made and leaned her front paws on the edge of the bed. “Dad said you weren’t feeling well, so I’ve come to keep you company.”
“Ah, thank you, Mia,” replied Grandma, wiping her nose on a white daisy petal. Then she sneezed again. “A-a-a-CHOO!”
“Oh, dear. You must be feeling awful,” Mia said.
“Yes, I am.” Grandma sighed. “My poor nose is so sore … a-a-a-CHOO!”
Mia tilted her head to one side. “Would you like me to tell you a story?”
Grandma’s eyes lit up. “Ooh, yes, please! I do love your stor—a-a-a-CHOO!”
Mia sat back on her cushion. If she could think of a really good story, Grandma might forget about her sneezes and her sore nose.
Mia’s whiskers wiggled with excitement as a story began to form in her mind: “Once upon a time … there was a caterpillar!” she started.
“A caterpillar? Well, I never,” said Grandma with a loud sniff.
“And she was named Clarissa!” said Mia.
“That’s a big name for a little caterpillar,” said Grandma.
“Oh, but she wasn’t little!” cried Mia, and her whiskers twitched and wiggled so much she had to jump down and run around Grandma’s bed. “She was the biggest caterpillar you’ve ever seen! She was bigger than you and me and Mom and Dad and all the babies put together!”
“Goodness,” said Grandma. Then she smiled. She hadn’t sneezed for quite a while now. “How did she get to be so big?”
“Well…,” began Mia, jumping back onto the cushion, “Clarissa was very greedy. She ate and ate and ate, all day long.”
Grandma frowned. “Wherever did she get all that food from?”
Mia’s whiskers quivered as she thought up the answer. “Clarissa had a best friend. His name was Archie, and he was a tiny ant. Archie brought Clarissa lots of snacks. He brought her leaves and berries and nuts and—”
“Lucky Clarissa!” said Grandma, wriggling upright. She looked much happier now.
Mia sat up on her hind legs as the next part of the story came into her head. “But one day—and this is the really scary bit of the story, Grandma—Clarissa disappeared!”
“Oh, dear!” said Grandma. “Where had she gone?”
Mia sighed. “Nobody knew. Archie searched all through Misty Wood, but he couldn’t find her anywhere.”
Grandma shook her head, and her whiskers began to droop. “That’s a very sad story.”
Mia was about to explain that she hadn’t finished yet when her mom came scampering over to them.
“Thank you for looking after Grandma, Mia,” she said. “The babies are asleep now, so I’ll take over from you.”
Mia sighed. She was just getting to the most exciting part of the story.
“It’s all right, Mom, I’m looking after Grandma,” she said.
Mia’s mom smiled. Then she stroked the moss cushion that Mia had just made. “What a lovely soft cushion. Well done, Mia. There’s just one thing—”
“Oh, Mom, I’m in the middle of telling Grandma a story!” Mia interrupted.
“I know,” Mia’s mom said. “But I just need you to fetch something for me.”
Mia sighed. She wanted to go on with her story. She wanted to give it the best, most exciting ending ever so that Grandma would forget all about being sick.
“It’s all right, Mia,” Grandma said. “I’m feeling a bit tired, so I’ll have a nap and you can tell me the rest later. I’ll look forward to that.”
Grandma yawned and curled up in her lovely warm bed, ready to fall fast asleep.
Mia thought about where Clarissa the caterpillar could have
disappeared to, so she could tell her grandma later.
“I need you to bring me some bluebells,” Mia’s mom said. “You can do that, can’t you, Mia?”
“Easy-peasy,” said Mia.
But she was still thinking about the story. Where, oh, where would Archie find Clarissa?
Mia’s mom looked at her. “Are you sure you won’t forget? I know what you’re like when you’re making up one of your stories—you never have room in your head to think about anything else! Try to remember: I need you to get me some bluebells.”
“Yes, yes, bluebells, I know, Mom,” Mia said as she hopped down from the cushion. Maybe Clarissa could be hiding in a big, spooky cave? Maybe she got caught in a giant cobweb?
“Sleep well, Grandma,” Mia called as she scampered through the burrow. Maybe Clarissa got stuck inside a rabbit hole?
Mia raced through the tunnel that led into Misty Wood. She jumped out of the little hole between the roots, opened her gauzy wings, and floated up, up, up into the sunshine.
“Clarissa the Giant Caterpillar! My best story ever!” the little Moss Mouse squeaked happily as she fluttered away.
CHAPTER TWO
Don’t Forget …
Mia’s wings glimmered and shone as she flew through the bright sunlight.
“I can’t forget,” she muttered to herself. “Mom wants me to bring her some … ooh! What’s that?”
Bright green leaves were hanging down from an oak tree nearby. They had huge holes in them, as if something had been eating them.
“Maybe a giant caterpillar ate those leaves!” Mia gasped. Her whiskers were twitching like mad. “Maybe it was Clarissa!”
She swooped down to take a closer look.
The leaves did look just like Clarissa had been chomping them with her greedy munching jaws.
Mia landed on the tree branch and skipped along it. Maybe she would find a real-life Clarissa up here! She searched everywhere, peering under the leaves, but she couldn’t see a giant caterpillar.
I’m just like Archie the Ant! Mia thought with a smile. I’m hunting for Clarissa!
Mia leaped off the branch and flitted between the trees. She had to get home to the burrow right away to tell Grandma the next part of her story. But … wait a minute!
The little Moss Mouse came to a halt. Her mom had asked her to get something. What was it? She thought and thought, but she couldn’t remember. Her head was too full of thoughts about Clarissa and Archie.
“Think, Mia, think!” she squeaked.
I need you to bring me some b …
It was no good. Next, she tried saying it out loud: “I need you to bring me some b…” But, try as she might, she couldn’t remember what it was.
“It’s something beginning with B,” Mia said, scratching her furry head.
The little Moss Mouse looked at the trees and plants that were growing all around her. Then she started to smile. “There must be lots of things in Misty Wood that begin with B,” she said to herself. “If I keep looking for them, I’m bound to remember what it was that Mom wanted.”
She swirled her wings and whizzed off. Before long, she saw a fluffy brown fairy animal with floppy ears and beautiful golden wings hopping along the ground.
“A Bud Bunny!” Mia cried. “That begins with a B!”
She watched the bunny leaping over ferns. Why would her mom want a Bud Bunny? It looked much too bouncy for the inside of Mia’s burrow. And there weren’t any buds there for it to open into flowers, which was the Bud Bunnies’ special job.
“It can’t be a Bud Bunny,” Mia said, shaking her head.
Then she saw a big beech tree with wide branches stretching out like huge arms.
“Oooh—I know!” Mia cried, clapping her little paws together. “A beechwood back scratcher! Mom always has an itchy back.”
But then Mia remembered that her dad had made her mom a beautiful back scratcher from a piece of beechwood only the other day.
“I don’t think Mom would want another back scratcher,” Mia said. “After all, she’s only got one back!”
She flew on through the woods until she saw some water glinting in the sunlight.
“A babbling brook!” Mia squeaked. “Mom would love one of those!”
She glided down and landed softly on the bank of the brook. The water was fresh and clear and made a cheerful gurgling noise as it rushed along.
Mia scampered across the bank. She sat down and leaned over to catch some of the water in her paws.
“Zzzz!”
Mia jumped and nearly tumbled into the brook. Something was buzzing around her head!
“Beeeeee careful,” a buzzy voice said to her. “You don’t want to fall in.” Then it stopped buzzing and landed on the bank in front of Mia. It was a fat, stripy bumblebee!
“Whatever are you doing?” the bee asked.
“I’m trying to catch the water,” Mia told him. “My mom wants me to bring her a babbling brook.”
“Well, that’zzz very strange,” said the bumblebee. “Thizzz brook flowzzz on for milezzz and milezzz. It’zzz much too big to carry home.”
Mia sighed. “Maybe I’ve got it wrong. All I know for sure is that she wants me to get her something beginning with B.”
The bumblebee frowned. “Your mom muzzzt have meant zzzomething elzzze,” he buzzed.
Mia looked at him, and her whiskers started to tremble with excitement. “I know! Maybe Mom asked me to bring her a bumblebee!”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” the bee buzzed, backing away from Mia.
“We’ve got a lovely burrow,” Mia said. “You’d really like it.”
“But I need to be outzide, making lotzz of lovely honey from flower nectar,” he replied with a frown.
“Oh yes.” Mia’s whiskers began to droop. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s probably not a bumblebee Mom wants after all. I just wish I could remember what it was.”
She sat down on the grass and sniffed. She was feeling very fed up indeed. Her mom would be angry if she didn’t remember!
The bumblebee rubbed his face with his front legs. “Don’t be sad,” he said. “What’z your name?”
Mia looked up at him. “Mia,” she said quietly.
“I’m Buzby,” he said. “Buzby the bumblebee. Look, Mia, there are loadzz of thingzz in Misty Wood beginning with B. I could help you look for them.”
“Oh, thank you, Buzby!” Mia fluttered into the air.
“And just in case it iz a bumblebee she’z after,” Buzby went on, “I’ll come back with you to your burrow when we’ve finished looking. But only for a vizit. How about that?”
“That’s so kind of you, Buzby,” Mia said. She flapped her tiny wings happily. “Let’s go!”
CHAPTER THREE
Searching Misty Wood!
Mia and Buzby fluttered through the Heart of Misty Wood looking for things beginning with B. All around them, sunbeams poked through the leaves like long golden fingers, making pretty patterns on the ground.
“Hey, Buzby!” Mia called. “There’s a birch tree. That begins with a B.”
The bumblebee zoomed over to the tall birch tree that Mia was pointing to. Beautiful pictures of hearts and rainbows had been carved into its silver bark by the Bark Badgers.
“Too big,” Buzby buzzed. “It’ll never fit inside your burrow.”
But Mia’s whiskers were twitching. “What about the twigs? We could make a bristly broomstick with them! Maybe that’s what Mom wants.”
Buzby looked doubtful. “Doezn’t she have one already?” he asked.
Mia nodded. “Yes, she does. She sweeps the burrow with it every day.”
“Then she won’t need another one, will she? We’ll have to look for something elze.”
They fluttered their wings and flew on until they came to a sunny clearing. A herd of Dream Deer were bounding across the grass. Their legs were so long and they moved so gracefully that they looked as if they were dancing. Mia’s whiskers twitched and tw
izzled. Her next idea was so much fun!
“Maybe Mom wants a ballet-dancing buffalo!” she squeaked. She was so excited she turned head over heels in the air.
Buzby looked very surprised. “A buffalo? In Misty Wood? I’ve never seen one. Have you?”
“No, I suppose not,” Mia said, spinning the right way up again.
“Your imagination’z running away with you,” said Buzby. “Let’z head back. Keep looking for thingz beginning with B!”
Mia followed him through the trees. Buzby was a very serious bumblebee. Maybe she could think of a story that would make him laugh. Her whiskers twizzled like mad.
“How about a boggley boogaloo!” she squeaked.
Buzby stared at Mia.“You just made that up, didn’t you?” he buzzed.
“Yes, I did!” Mia giggled. Her whiskers twitched as more ideas popped into her head. “A boogaloo’s a bright yellow bug, with big boggley eyes. And he loves to … he loves to boogie! I could tell you a story about him if you like.…”
But Buzby wasn’t listening. He’d seen something up ahead and he was zooming toward it, dodging between the tree trunks.
“Mia!” he called. “Come and zee!”
Mia’s wings sparkled as she hurried after him.
“What did you find?”
“Down there,” buzzed Buzby.
Mia looked down and saw a bramble bush stretching its thorny arms around the trunk of a tree. In between the thorns she could see …
“Blackberries!” she cried.
The two of them landed next to the bush. Sure enough, there were lots of juicy blackberries growing there, as shiny and bright as jewels.
“Are these what your mom wanted?” asked Buzby.
Mia scratched her head with her tiny pink paw. “I’m not sure,” she said. “They do look delicious, though. Why don’t we take some back to the burrow, just in case. But there are so many—how will we carry them?”
Buzby twirled his antennae. “We need a bazket.”
Mia’s whiskers twitched. “Oh, Buzby—basket begins with B, too! Do you think that’s what Mom wants?”
“I don’t know,” said Buzby. “But I know just where we can find one. Come on!”
