Willowdrop and the Petal Gate Promise

Willowdrop drifted through the Enchanted Forest like a gentle raindrop that learned to dance. Her tail shimmered as she hurried toward the Petal Gate.

Today was Lantern Loop Day. Friends would walk the loop trail, hang leaf lanterns, and end at the Moonpool with berry tea.

At the Petal Gate, a flower banner should have fluttered above the path. Instead it sagged, torn down the middle. Loose petals sprinkled the ground.

Willowdrop leaned closer. A thin vine curled around the ribbon like a sneaky hook.

"I did not do that," squeaked a little field mouse, backing away.

Footsteps pattered. Two friends arrived and saw the torn banner and the mouse beside it.

"You ripped it," one friend blurted, cheeks pink.

The mouse shrank smaller.

Willowdrop felt a sting in her chest, like a tiny thorn. She took a slow breath and looked at the vine, not the mouse.

"Let us look first," Willowdrop said.

She traced the ribbon and found the vine hook caught tight. She tugged it free, and the ribbon relaxed.

"It was the vine," Willowdrop said, holding it up so everyone could see.

The mouse sniffed. "I bumped it, and then I froze."

Willowdrop nodded. She did not like the sharp blaming sound, but she could forgive it. Surprises made voices jump.

They went on a quick fix quest. Willowdrop led them to a silk leaf plant and gathered a smooth strip. Together they tied the banner closed and tucked the vine away from the path.

"I am sorry I blamed you," the friend said, voice small.

The mouse blinked, then whispered, "I forgive you."

Willowdrop smiled. Forgiveness felt like making space for someone to stand back up.