Brum and the Disappearing Puddles

Brum the troll absolutely loved mud puddles. More than anything else in the entire forest, he loved squishing his wide feet into the soft earth, splashing heavily in the brown water, and feeling the cool mud slide between his toes. Every normal morning, his favorite part of the forest had at least twelve good, deep puddles to choose from. But this morning, there were zero.

“Hmm…” Brum rumbled, scratching his mossy cheek with a muddy finger. ” He stood in the middle of what had been a perfect puddle just yesterday. Now it was dry, cracked, and dusty. Brum crouched low and pressed his palm flat against the earth. He closed his eyes. “No water beneath,” he muttered. ” Luka the large dinosaur lumbered over. His heavy feet thudded loudly against the dry ground. “Brum! Have you seen the water? My watering hole is gone too!

Owl glided down silently from above, her sharp eyes scanning the forest. “I have seen it all from the sky. Every stream, every puddle—gone. ” Mila the rabbit hopped closer, her nose twitching nervously. “The flowers are already drooping. ” Suddenly, Bear dragged himself out of his den, covered in gray dust from head to toe. “No water,” he grumbled. “I tried to bathe. ” He looked ridiculous. No one said it. Brum stood slowly, brushing dirt from his hands. His small eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“Water always leaves a story,” he said. ” Owl nodded. ” Brum’s face lit up. ” They formed a line and began moving through the forest. Brum walked in front, stepping slowly, pressing his feet into the soil, feeling for softness beneath the surface. “This way,” he said, turning slightly. ” They passed through thick berry bushes, crossed the shaded Fern Valley, and climbed toward the rocky hills. The air grew cooler. The ground darker. Finally, they reached the entrance of a small cave hidden between stones. Brum stepped inside first. The air was damp. “Water is here,” he whispered. Deep inside the cave, they found the cause. A small beaver stood beside a huge wooden dam, carefully packed with mud and branches. Behind it, water was trapped, unable to flow into the forest. The beaver froze. “I… I was just practicing,” he squeaked nervously.

Brum walked forward and placed his hand against the dam. He pressed gently, testing it. “It’s strong,” he said. ” He looked at the beaver and smiled kindly. “You are a good builder. ” The beaver blinked. ” Brum nodded. ” The beaver looked down. ” “You didn’t,” Brum said calmly. ” Mila stepped forward. ” Luka nodded. ” Even Bear gave a dusty thumbs-up. Together, they carefully took apart the dam and carried the branches down to Meadow Creek. There, they rebuilt it in a wide, open space where water could flow freely around it. Brum stood nearby, watching the ground as they worked. “Here,” he said finally. “The earth is soft. ” The beaver placed the final branch. Slowly… The water began to flow again. Down through the creek. Back into the forest. Within an hour, puddles began forming once more. Soft. Cool. Perfect. Brum stepped into the first puddle he saw. SPLASH. He smiled deeply. Bear ran straight into the creek and rolled happily. ” The flowers lifted again. The forest breathed again. The beaver stood proudly beside his new dam.

Brum nodded. “Everyone builds. ” He looked down at the puddle beneath his feet. ” That afternoon, the forest had thirteen muddy puddles. Brum tested every single one.