It was a sun-warm morning by the glittering brook. Vanna, a little otter with a sandy nose, splashed water and laughed. Beside her, Spike, a round hedgehog with soft steps, tramped on flat stones as warm as pancakes. Pip, a little blue bird with bright eyes, swung on a green branch and sang, "Pip-pip, what a day!" The water murmured, the grass smelled sweet, and the sky was so vast it tickled in the stomach when you looked up.

Spike carried a big, shiny apple he had found. "It's my best," he said, hugging it carefully. Vanna wanted to show off a spin with her tail. She spun once, twice, three times—"Swoosh!" Water splashed. The apple rolled from Spike's arms, bounced on a stone, and, "Plop!" landed right in the brook. "My apple!" cried Spike. The apple began to sail away like a little red boat.

Vanna became completely still. "Sorry, Spike," she said in a small voice. "We'll get it together," chirped Pip, fluttering down. Spike sniffed. "Together," he said. They ran along the brook. Vanna swam by the edge, Spike trotted on the stones, and Pip flew high, scouting ahead. "It's floating toward the crooked stick!" called Pip. "Hurry!"

Vanna stretched her paws, but the water was faster than her small swimming strokes. "I can't reach!" she called. Spike took a long stick. "I'll poke," he said, balancing with his tongue sticking out. The stick was too short. "Pip-pip, I'll get something longer!" called Pip, and off he flew.

Pip returned with a reed that was bent and soft, almost as long as Vanna. "Great!" said Vanna. "I'll hold the middle, Spike will hold the end, and Pip will show the way." They positioned themselves like a team by the water. "A little to the left," said Pip. "A little forward... now!" Vanna dipped the reed. It touched the apple. "I feel it!" she said. But the brook pushed, and Vanna slipped. "Oh!"

She slid down, and the water tugged at her. "I've got you!" called Spike, grabbing Vanna's tail. "Ouch, a little prickly," giggled Vanna, "but hold tight!" Spike stood steady, pressing his paws against the stones. They were slippery, but he didn't give up. Pip flew straight over the apple, pecking at the reed. "Here! This way!" he called. Vanna kicked, Spike held, and together they steered the reed under the apple like a spoon under a meatball.

"Up!" said Vanna. The reed lifted; the apple rolled toward the edge and landed in Spike's arms with a wet "Schlop!" They all caught their breath and then began to laugh. Vanna hugged Spike. "Sorry for the spin." Spike hugged back. "Thanks for saving my best." Pip did a little victory dance in the air. "We're a good team," he said.

They sat in the grass. Vanna dried her nose. Spike dried the apple on his soft belly. "We'll share," said Spike, and he carefully broke it along a small crack he found. They munched and let the sun's warmth dry their paws and feathers. The water continued to murmur, but now it sounded like music accompanying their laughter.

Then they carried stone after stone, building a little stepping path over the brook. "A friendship path," said Vanna. "So we can help each other cross." Pip picked small flowers and laid them on the edge. "And here's a flag," he said, sticking a feather into a crack. Spike smiled so broadly his eyes almost disappeared. "Next time you spin, Vanna, you call first," he said. "Next time your apple runs away, I'll run first," answered Vanna.

When the day began to feel tired, they went home together. Behind them, the friendship path glittered. The brook rushed softly, and on a branch, Pip's feather flag hung and waved gently. They knew that if something rolled away again, no one would have to run alone.