Elara loved late summer best.Not for the honeybees or the smell of cut grass, but for the untidy, tangled corners of the garden.They were full of secrets — like forgotten gold and sleeping dragons — which were usually just rusty trowels and old flower pots.
She sat still for a long time, watching. A gentle breeze rustled the apple leaves, but the hole remained perfectly still.No spiders, no angry gnomes, no keys. Just silence.
Elara knew Jasper liked to exaggerate.He'd once convinced her that all the snails had formed a secret marching band.But the darkness inside that hole felt… different.It made the air around her go quiet.
Then, she saw it.Not inside, but just at the rim — the tip of a tiny, grey antenna, twitching.Slowly, cautiously, an earwig emerged.It looked like a miniature, polished bronze tank, except for its two little pincers.
She waited until the earwig had safely scuttled into the dry leaves.Then, with a deep breath and a quick glance around, Elara reached into her pocket.She pulled out the smoothest, darkest stone she had found that morning.