Deep in Hollow Wood, where the brambles curl and the moon peeks through the leaves, our story begins...
That night, Bramble lay in his nest under the old stump and couldn't sleep at all.
Tomorrow, he'd told himself. Tomorrow I'll go all the way through.
But now tomorrow felt terribly close, and his nest felt terribly comfortable, and every time he shut his eyes he saw the Dark Hollow stretching on and on with no end in sight.
Perhaps the elderflowers aren't really so important, he thought. Perhaps Pip's mum is already feeling better. Perhaps I could go the long way round with a basket and collect twice as many and that would be just as helpful, wouldn't it?
He turned over.
No, he told himself firmly. No, it wouldn't.
There was a soft tap at his door.
"Bramble?" came Hazel's voice. "I saw your light."
He opened the door. Hazel was standing there with her tail fluffed against the cold, looking worried.
"Couldn't sleep either," she said.
They sat together on his doorstep and watched the stars.
"I've been thinking," Hazel said carefully. "I could come with you. Through the Hollow, I mean. Tomorrow."
Bramble felt a warm rush of relief — and then, straight after, something else. Something that surprised him.
"You'd do that?" he asked.
"Of course," said Hazel. "That's what friends do."
Bramble was quiet for a moment. He thought about Pip, waiting and hopeful. He thought about the mossy stone, and the faint light beyond, and all those careful steps he'd counted.
"Thank you," he said at last, and he meant it more than anything. "But I think — I think this one I ought to do myself."
Hazel looked at him properly then.
"Because of Pip?" she asked.
"Because of Pip," Bramble agreed. "He's counting on me. Not on both of us. On me."
It wasn't a grand declaration. It was just true.
Hazel nodded slowly. Then she reached up and unpinned the small acorn brooch she always wore on her scarf — the shiny one her grandmother had given her.
"Then you'd better take this," she said, and pressed it into his paw.
"But it's yours," Bramble said. "It's special."
"Exactly," said Hazel. "So you'll have to come back and give it to me, won't you?"
Bramble closed his paw around the little brooch. It was smooth and warm and solid.
"I will," he promised.
After Hazel left, Bramble lay down again in his nest. He put the acorn brooch on the shelf where he could see it, catching the moonlight.
Tomorrow still felt frightening. The Dark Hollow hadn't got any smaller.
But somehow, holding onto the thought of Hazel waiting on the other side — and Pip, who believed he was brave — Bramble finally closed his eyes.
Just before he drifted off, he wondered about something. The acorn brooch shone so brightly in the dark. Would it glow, he thought sleepily, if he carried it through the Hollow?
And as Hollow Wood grew quiet and the stars came out to watch, it was time to rest — until tomorrow's tale.