RAW KINGDOM ENTERTAINMENT

                     How Thumbelina Got Lost

 It was drawing toward dusk when they found themselves wandering into a low yet strangely dense forest. Under the darkening boughs the ground lay deep with fallen leaves and brittle twigs, so that every step cracked softly or sharply beneath their feet.

 Yoshi strove to set his paws down lightly, for he feared that in such a place they might cross paths with wolf or fox. Yet for poor Thumbelina such stealth was but a hopeless wish—heavy of gait and clumsy besides, she could not have slipped silently through the forest if her life depended on it.
 o the two of them agreed at last to take shelter beneath a sprawling bush and pass the night there, though hunger gnawed at them fiercely. Yoshi urged his companion to lie still and wait for the coming of dawn and his hopes of finding food; but the ever-hungry Thumbelina would not hear of settling down on an empty stomach. And when the little hedgehog at last drifted into sleep amid the cold leaves, she rose up and set off alone into the deep, damp darkness of the forest.
 Yoshi heard her, yet murmured to himself: “Her foes are but few, and the old trough shall shield her well enough. Let her look for food.” With that small comfort he folded his limbs beneath him and drifted once more into slumber.
 Long did she drag herself beneath the dim boughs of the forest, until at last she came to a clearing—steep, barren, and strangely still. Far below, somewhere in the deepening dark, the splash of falling water rose to her, mingled with the steady thunder of a hidden waterfall.
 There the tortoise found two snails and made a meal of them; and spying a pale mushroom just lifting its white cap from the earth, she lunged upon it with delight. She was about to eat it when suddenly two greenish eyes glimmered in the gloom, and soft, stealthy steps rustled close at hand. At once she shrank back into the shelter of her trough, from which she glimpsed the sweep of a fox’s thick, and ruddy tail.

 The fox crept forward, her paws silent on the soft earth, and sniffed the strange Thumbelina with a cautious curiosity. A sudden sneeze betrayed her displeasure at her scent. Nearby, she crouched low, eyes glinting with mischief, and cast a sly glance toward the tortoise, a joke forming in her mind.

 Without warning, she twisted her body, and with a swift, almost playful kick, sent Thumbelina tumbling. The turtle rolled like a small, unyielding stone down the slope, disappearing with a whisper into the shadowed roar of the waterfall below, where the water sang its endless, echoing song.
 Thumbelina tumbled faster and faster, the world spinning around her, until at last she bounded across the meadow as though carried by some unseen current. She grasped vainly at the grass and the low shrubs, her legs flailing in helpless panic, but the speed made her head whirl and her senses reel. With a shuddering sigh, she relinquished all hope of control and surrendered herself to the merciless motion.
 Then, without warning, she plunged into a yawning abyss. A deafening roar thundered in her ears, and for a moment the world itself seemed to vanish.
 When her senses returned, she found herself immersed in a shadowed mountain pool, the waters of a great waterfall tumbling with a foaming, dizzying roar into the basin below. Jagged rocks and rounded stones crowded the depths and jutted above the seething surface. Had she struck even one of them, her fate would have been sealed. And yet, for all the terror of the fall, she floated, trembling but alive, held by the strange mercy of the rushing waters.
Thumbelina swam with difficulty to the shore of the pond, from the water’s edge, she heaved herself upon a stone, shivering and soaked. The pond lay still behind her, as though holding its breath, while her limbs trembled and her mind crawled slowly toward understanding the full weight of her plight. How formidable it would be to leave this place—this shadowed nook of reeds and water. Her thoughts turned, unbidden, to Yoshi. A deep sorrow settled in her heart, a foreboding that she might never see him again. She recalled his careful advice: to wait until the light of morning for sustenance, to avoid venturing alone into the forest before dawn. Each memory pressed upon her, heavy as the cold that seeped through her drenched body, in the darkness of the early night.

 Tears welled in her eyes, and she huddled deep within her trough, wishing for the morning to come swiftly. The night stretched long and merciless above her, the shadows pressing close as though eager to swallow her whole. At last, the pale fingers of dawn crept over the land, revealing the true harshness of her predicament. The banks of the stream rose steep and barren on either side, and the path downstream promised little relief.
With a resolute breath, she slipped into the rushing waters, letting the current carry her between jagged stones and tumbling rapids. The roar of the water was deafening, yet she pressed on, swimming with desperate strength. At last, she emerged from the narrow, cruel trough into the open, gasping, dripping, and alive.