Piek and the Owl Rescue Fünkchen

It was a golden afternoon in the Silbenwald. The warm lanterns hanging from the thick oak trunks glowed a soft orange into the mist that dozed between the trees. Piek the hedgehog trotted along the mossy path on his little pink paws, sniffing the air with great contentment. It smelled of earth, of mushrooms, and just the tiniest bit of rain — and Piek loved that smell very much. He hummed a song with no words at all, simply because the day was so lovely and the Silbenwald lay so still and warm all around him.

Then Piek heard something. A small, trembling hum — quite different from his own. He stopped and pricked up his ears. The humming was coming from a bramble bush at the side of the path, and between the leaves something flickered. A tiny light, yellowish and unsteady, like a candle flame shivering in the wind. Piek stepped carefully closer and crouched down. There, tucked between two large bramble leaves, sat a tiny glow-worm. It blinked and blinked, but the blinking did not look cheerful. It looked tired. And a little bit lost.

"Hello," said Piek, very softly, so as not to give the glow-worm a fright. "My name is Piek. Who are you?" The glow-worm blinked three times in quick succession. "My name is Fünkchen," squeaked a tiny voice, barely louder than the rustle of a leaf. "And I can't find my family any more. I just kept on flying and flying, and now I don't know the way back." Piek looked at the little glow-worm and felt his heart grow wonderfully warm. "Then stay with me for now," said Piek. "Together we'll find your way home, I'm sure of it. I know someone who knows every corner of the Silbenwald."

Piek and Fünkchen set off together. Fünkchen perched very carefully on Piek's forehead, nestled between two spines, and glowed a little — though still in that tired, flickering way. So Piek trotted along the mossy path, deeper into the Silbenwald, towards a great elder tree whose branches were home to an old grey owl. The Owl had large yellow eyes and a broad, soft tummy, and she always knew where everything in the Silbenwald was to be found. "Owl!" called Piek. "Owl, we need your help!" The Owl blinked slowly and regarded them both with a calm, unhurried gaze.

"Well now, who do we have here," said the Owl in her deep, warm voice, which always sounded a little like wood crackling in a stove. "A lost glow-worm, if I'm not mistaken. Tell me, little Fünkchen — where did you last see your family?" Fünkchen thought hard, blinking thoughtfully all the while. "It was by the great Silver Brook Stone," Fünkchen squeaked at last. "Where the water runs over the pebbles and it always smells of fresh moss." The Owl nodded slowly and gravely. "I know the Silver Brook Stone very well," she said. "I fly over it every evening. I know exactly where it is."

Just as Piek and the Owl were about to set off, something rustled in the undergrowth. Out came Balduin the badger, broad and unhurried as ever, with mud on his paws and a cheerful yawn on his face. "What's all this, then?" he rumbled. And no sooner had Piek explained everything than Balduin was ready to come along. "A lost glow-worm — well, one simply has to help," said Balduin, nodding so firmly that his round tummy wobbled. Then Fippa the squirrel came whisking down from above, her bushy red tail streaming behind her and her eyes bright with curiosity. "Can I come too?" asked Fippa, already hopping from one foot to the other with impatience.

And so the little band set off through the Silbenwald: Piek at the front with Fünkchen on his forehead, then Balduin the badger plodding along with a comfortable puff at every step, and Fippa the squirrel, who sometimes raced along a branch overhead and sometimes leapt back down to the path again. The Owl flew silently above them all, tilting a wingtip to show the way. The lanterns of the Silbenwald glowed softly, and the mist drifted between the trees like handfuls of loose wool. Fünkchen was blinking a little more brightly now — as though walking alongside friends had already helped, just a little.

Along the way, the group met the fox. He was sitting at the edge of the path, grooming his russet tail. When he saw the friends approaching, he lifted his head with interest. "So many on the same road — where is everyone off to?" Piek explained everything. The fox rose to his feet and joined them with an easy smile. "I know a short cut," he said, "through the fern arch and then left past the great ring of mushrooms." Balduin rumbled approvingly. Fippa clapped her paws. And Fünkchen blazed so brightly for one shining moment that everyone smiled. Together they turned off onto the fern path.

And then they heard it: the gentle sound of water tumbling over stones. The Silver Brook Stone! It gleamed in the warm lantern light like polished silver. And there on the bank, among the rushes and the soft moss, lights were blinking and glowing — dozens and dozens of tiny lights. Fünkchen's family! The moment Fünkchen saw them, the little glow-worm lifted off from Piek's forehead and shone more brightly and joyfully than ever before. The other glow-worms came swooping straight towards Fünkchen, and all together they danced a little circle of light above the brook stone. Piek, Balduin, Fippa, the fox, and the Owl watched, and every one of them smiled.

Fünkchen flew back to Piek and blinked right in front of his nose: once, twice, three times. That meant thank you — Piek simply knew it. "Look after yourself, little Fünkchen," Piek whispered. Then all the glow-worms flew away together, a glittering swarm drifting over the Silbenwald, still visible long into the soft evening dusk. Piek, Balduin, Fippa, the fox, and the Owl made their way home together. The lanterns glowed warm. The mist lay gently on the moss. And Piek hummed his song with no words again — a little louder this time, because this day had been such a very good one.