🐋Story Whale is back! 🐋New Chapter alert! The Tale of a Guinea Pig and a Fruit Bat...
It's new chapter time!
Good morning/good afternoon/good evening!
Thanks for stopping by.
The story of Bruce and Ginny continues!
If you need to catch up at all, here’s a link to the full series:
It’s good to be back. I’m going to try and post a little more regularly now so that we can properly get this story back on the road again.
Now, please enjoy!
Bruce was baffled as the entire community of guinea pigs scuttled around the edge of the shrub. Around and around they went, like a soaring bird with just one wing, looping in circles for eternity. The guinea pigs were a tornado of fuzz and fur.
They seemed to be enjoying it, as if this was what they did for fun. Bruce had never seen anything like it. A bat’s version of fun was generally just closing their eyes and soaking in some peace and quiet.
As the guinea pigs did their laps of town, Bruce was left to settle down to get some sleep. He looked around the little area that belonged to Ginny. Her square of space was a little bit different to those around it. She had some twigs to mark out the boundary and a little patch of plucked grass for a bed. The difference came in the assortment of strange bits and pieces that Ginny had around the room. They were like trinkets or bits of treasure. A couple of freshly picked colourful flowers; some seashells (even though they were seemingly nowhere near the sea); and a number of bright rocks and quartzes. She was quite the collector.
Bruce left Ginny’s place and looked around for somewhere he could lay down. Eventually, he found a little lot of unoccupied dirt. He quickly set himself up, lying down on his uninjured side. It felt strange to not be hanging upside for sleep like he usually would be, but he was too tired to let it bother him. He simply closed his eyes.
*
Through the rest of the day and through the whole of the night, Bruce slept like a baby. He hadn’t had a proper sleep in what felt like weeks. Back home, he had been constantly on the search for scraps of food. Rest hadn’t been his first priority; although he now knew just how much he had been needing it.
He opened his eyes to find a few gnarly berries on the ground beside him. He looked around, confused, and then he cautiously began to eat.
“Sorry, that’s all I could find,” said Ginny.
Bruce looked up. She’d seemingly appeared out of thin air.
“Thank you,” he said.
Ginny took a seat beside him.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
He briefly wiggled his injured wing.
“Better,” he said. “Much better.”
Ginny smiled. “That’s good news.”
It was mid-morning and the shrub was full of movement and action.
“I’ll hopefully get out of your hair very soon,” said Bruce.
“It’s ok,” said Ginny. “No rush. How long do you think you will need?”
“A few days, I’d say,” said Bruce.
Ginny nodded. Something was clearly on her mind.
“What’s up?” asked Bruce.
“Have you every heard of a strawberry, Bruce?”
“A what?” he said.
“A strawberry,” she said. “It’s a type of fruit.”
“No, I’ve never heard of it,” said Bruce.
“They’re meant to be quite good. Well, really, I’m underselling it there. They’re meant to be the greatest little bite of food on earth. Or at least that’s what I’ve heard.”
“Where do you find them?” asked Bruce.
“Well, that’s where it gets tricky. A butterfly named Borris told me about them. You know butterflies are very good with directions. The issue is that these strawberries are quite far away.”
“How far away?” Bruce asked.
Ginny hesitated. “Very far. Too far for me on my own.”
Bruce immediately knew what she was getting at.
“So you would like a lift?” asked Bruce.
“It will be an adventure!” claimed Ginny with a big grin.