Saffra in Search of Lunelle

More about Saffra in Search of Lunelle

The rain fell softly, almost politely, as if it didn't want to disturb anyone. A small boat made of a giant maple leaf floated between the shining stones of the forest stream. Inside sat a young cat with honey-colored fur and a blue raincoat that was a little too big for her. In her paws, she held an umbrella, black as the night sky after a summer festival. Her name was Saffra, and she was searching for her best friend—Lunelle, the little mouse who had been missing for three days. The river murmured stories, as rivers do when no one is listening. But Saffra listened. She had learned that sometimes, among the drops, you could find answers. "Lunelle?" she called, her voice barely louder than the sound of the rain. No answer—only the soft giggle of a waterfall in the distance. The wind ruffled her fur, turning the world like a page in the book of autumn. Golden leaves rustled above her, and drops danced on the water like little dancers. Saffra held her umbrella tighter and let the leaf boat drift. She was tired, but her eyes shone with determination. Lunelle had once told her, "He who has the courage to walk on in the rain finds the sunlight first." After a while, the stream curved into a narrow gorge. The rocks towered like sleeping giants, and between them hung a mist, silver and mysterious. Saffra trembled, but she kept going. Then—a sound, barely audible. A whisper. "Saffra?" She held her breath. It was a voice, soft as a breath of wind. "Lunelle!" she cried, her heart pounding. She jumped from the leaf boat onto the shore, her umbrella flying away, swallowed by the wind. She struggled forward through the bracken and moss until she spotted a tiny camp—a nest of dry leaves, a piece of nutshell, a tiny scarf made of spider web. And there, in the middle of it all, sat Lunelle. Her small paws were dirty, but her eyes shone with joy. "I knew you were coming," she squeaked. "The river told me." Saffra laughed with relief, and the two hugged so tightly that Lunelle almost disappeared into her fur. "You scared me to death! Why did you run away?" "I wanted to find the autumn light," whispered Lunelle, pointing to a narrow cave from which a golden shimmer emerged. Curiously, they followed the light, which grew brighter and brighter. The cave opened onto an underground lake, on whose surface floated tiny balls of light—fireflies that had found refuge from the rain. Their wings cast rays onto the water, which looked as if it were made of liquid amber. "This is the autumn light," breathed Lunelle reverently. "It only burns as long as friendship remains alive." Saffra put a paw around her. "Then it will never go out." They stayed until the rain outside subsided and the lake grew still.