On a Morning Like This Chapter 13 The Forest

 The scents of the forest hovered around them. Feeling joy at the touch of bark and leaf again, Bar-thur reached down, picked up a fat cone on the ground, sniffed it, and chewed it thoughtfully. “Quite tasty,” he gruffed.
“I’m hungry; let’s look in the bag,” Hoopy remarked, looking earnestly at the bulging bag in Bar-Thur’s paw and wondering what might be inside. He thought of the possibilities and drooled.
Finding a sunny clearing, they sat on a log and began to pull out the treasures that Nonna had given them. Sampling the bag's contents with smiling faces, Hoopy snuffled through his mustache with his mouth full. “What good roots!”
Flur-Ella smiled and pulled out a Scruffling stick that was in her bag. She loved Scruffling bars, especially dipped honey. She chewed happily.
A ticklish smell of beetles came to Bar-thur’s nose, a very enticing scent. His nose led him to the bottom of a nearby tree, and he began snuffling and digging around the roots.
Pata-Pikki heard a faint, sweet breeze from a deeper place in the forest. As he chewed on a long root, he listened. He half-closed his eyes and began to listen inwardly.  He saw an old Wilding in his heart, but was it a Wilding?
On the Olding’s head was a metal cap; without a doubt, he had a Narflbot metal arm, which made Pata-Pikki feel suspicious of him, but his face wore a sweet expression, and a sense of humor played around his mouth and eyes. Never had Pata-Pikki seen a Narflbot that looked so kind. He wore shabby and stained clothing and seemed someone out of the ordinary.
“Come when you are through eating, and we will talk.” The strange Wilding was talking to him! Pata-Pikki sat up with a start.
“What is it, Pata-Pikki?” woofed Flur-Ella.
“Is everyone ready to go?” Pata-Pikki asked.
“I can eat and walk,” answered Hoopy in surprise.
Looking up from the freshly dug hole under a tree and happily chewing on a root hanging from his mouth, Bar-thur snuffled, “I’m ready.” 
Flur-Ella, repacked her bag and quizzed Pata-Pikki, “Where are we going?”
“Into the trees, deeper in,” woofed Pata-Pikki, pointing with his paw, “there is a dense forest -someone there wants to talk to us.”
The Scrufflings entered a grove of deep-green trees and climbed a small hill, following a faint path. A thicket of dense, leafless trees grew below.  They entered the forest of tall white trunks with barren branches reaching skyward. Pata-Pikki stopped and listened for the breeze. In answer to his search, the breeze whispered in his ear. He turned to the left. “This way,” he woofed to the others.
The breeze was full of joy. Pata-Pikki chuckled as he walked because the wind had funny things to say. In his mind, he saw Scruffle-Pups playing, tumbling around, and rolling down a grassy hill.
“What are you laughing at, Pata-Pikki?” Flur-Ella said. “What is so funny?”
“The breeze... it was telling me something,” Pata-Pikki snuffled over his laughter. Hoopy looked at him curiously.
As they walked, the smell of smoke began to touch their noses. Breaking into deeper woods, they found a Wilding sitting on a log close to a small fire warming himself.
“Who is it?” growled Bar-thur.
“It’s an Olding,” Pata-Pikki responded. “A Wilding... do not be afraid. He wants to talk to us.”