The First Forage

A small harvest mouse poked his nose out of his den cautiously, twitching it and sniffing the cold air before allowing his head and body to follow.

Always check for danger before leaving your den, His mother's words rang in his head, You never know what may be lurking outside.

He nodded his small head. It was good advice, and he needed all the good advice he could get for his first forage.

Every since he turned 3 weeks old, his mother had been preparing him for this very day... It was the day that he finally got to forage on his own.

The little mouse took a deep breath before leaving his den, stepping out into the long, snow-covered grass, trying to keep himself as small and hidden as possible.

Mother taught me everything I need to know in order to survive in the wild, He thought, trying to convince himself of it, Now it's my time to join it.

When his mother told him that today was the day he was going to forage on his own, he was excited, but now that he was actually there, alone and vulnerable... his nerves were beginning to get the best of him. He knew that his mother was somewhere nearby, watching him, ready to jump in if something went wrong, but it still made him nervous that she wasn't right there besides him.

He took a deep breath to steel his nerves, then pushed on. All he had to do was get some food and return home. It was simple.

...If there weren't a thousand predators out to get him while he did so.

He crawled over and under long stalks of grass, wandering around for a while before he eventually spotted a small clearing with a little patch of ryegrass in the middle of it.

A ghost of a smile brushed across his tiny lips. I did it! He thought eagerly. I found food!

Now you just have to survive long enough to eat it and return home, His mother's voice reminded him in his head.

He was just beginning to step towards it when, suddenly, the grass to his left began to move, and he squeaked and jumped out of the way just in time to see a frightened hare jump past him, bounding into the clearing, then darting into the grass to the left of it.

His heart pounded, furiously assaulting his ribcage as he waited for himself to become brave enough to venture into the clearing. That was terrifying! He thought, ears swiveling in all directions, listening for another approaching animal. When he heard nothing, he took a few deep breaths before standing up again, turning to the clearing.

Just get the food and leave. He told himself, hoping it would be that easy. He had to hurry if he didn't want to get caught. Quickly, quickly!

So he began walking toward the ryegrass, placing each step with caution, until he was there. He checked to make sure there were no predators around, then leaned over to nibble one of the shoots of the ryegrass. It was so good, he let himself close his eyes for a moment of bliss. Then he remembered his mother's words and began eating them faster.

Once he was full, he sat back on his haunches and inhaled deeply through his nose. He'd done it! He'd foraged all on his own!

Now just get back home, His mother's voice said in his head, in an almost pleading voice.

He nodded to himself, then realized that his whiskers were dirty from the snow that the hare had kicked up when it was running past him. He looked around, left and right, then began to clean them with his paws.

It'll only take a minute.

But that was the last minute he ever had.

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**This story is from the perspective of the harvest mouse from "The First Hunt", because I lot of people were wondering what happened to him. I've left the link to "The First Hunt" here, in case you would like to read the fox's side of the story. I hope you enjoy it!