A whine escaped Pip’s mouth as he laid his eyes on a strange-looking patch of frost by his boundary’s stream. It was shaped almost like a teardrop, with one rounded end and one pointed end. It wasn’t that which had upset him, however - it was instead the small round stone that lay in the rounded end of the frost shape.
Not again! He didn’t want another one of these stones! When would they end? So far he had come across three, and sure, each trip had been interesting. But they hadn’t been enjoyable - the previous one had left him cowering in terror in one of his holes for days. The first one had filled him with excitement and joy when he had first spotted it. This one only offered him dread.
Pip sighed miserably, leaning down to inspect the stone further. He nudged the stone with his nose, shivering as the frozen surface chilled his snout. He shook his head, wrinkling his nose to try and rid himself of the sensation, and then focused his attention back onto