Finn and the Missing Star

The story

In a cozy kitchen with a round window, the sunset turned everything rose-gold. Finn the little orange fox stood on his stool, looking at the empty windowsill. “My painted star is gone.”

Tuck the little green tortoise looked up from the warm bread. Bo the little blue bird hopped along the table. “Your star?” asked Bo. “The one you keep by the window?”

Finn nodded at the bare wooden sill. “It sleeps there every night. Now it is not there.”

Finn’s paws squeezed tight. A big hot feeling climbed up his chest, and his tail went stiff. “I feel all rumbly and cross.”

Tuck nodded slowly and patted the cool wooden table beside the warm bread. “Put both paws flat here. Then blow soft, like cooling warm soup.”

Finn spread his paws on the cool wood and blew out, long and gentle. “One... two... three,” counted Tuck.

By the third slow blow, Finn’s shoulders softened and his tail rested down again. “The rumbly feeling got smaller,” he said.

Now Finn could look properly. He checked the bread basket, the milk cup, and under the little blue bowl. “I will look up high,” said Bo, and flew up to the curtain rod above the round window.

“Something is glowing down there!”

The painted star had slipped behind the rose-gold curtain, catching the last sunset light. “There you are, little star,” smiled Finn.

He set his star back on the windowsill, and Tuck tapped the cool table one more time. “Cool paws, slow blow. That is the trick.”

The whole kitchen glowed soft and quiet as the sky turned sleepy purple. “Goodnight, little star,” whispered Finn. “Goodnight, my friends.”