So there they were--two ferrets, two otters, gathered together atop the sledding hill behind the Elementary School in the cold, cold New England night. They stood in a circle, and at their feet was France the Hedgehog, who had finally gotten over her rage attack, regained her feet, and started to speak, very quietly. "Youuu left me. Youuuu ferretss. Youuu wen' away in de tractor, an' youuu left me. I 'ate youuu.." She spoke looking at the ground, never once raising her head, her little shivering shoulders slumped in defeat. Nobody spoke. What could they possibly say? It was true. Ping and Puma*had* left her, sneaking out of the Ferret Room very quietly on purpose, just so they wouldn't have to deal with her bad temper and snide remarks. But right now, both Ping and Puma felt....rather small. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Ping's gaze met Pumas, and they both looked away quickly, guiltily. Oh, how embarrassing, and in front of the *otters*..... The First otter cleared his throat with a deep rumble and said "It is much too cold for you here Miss Porcu-- um...Hog. Could I perhaps pick you up? My fur is quite warm." France sighed wearily, and merely nodded. This was not like her at all. She was truly...hurt? Could France *be* hurt? The First otter reached down, gently engulfed the little Hedgehog in his big paws, stood, and gathered her to his chest, cradling her in the warmth of his arms. The Second otter stepped up to the First, and tenderly stroked her tiny head, and made gentle crooning sounds. He turned to look over his shoulder at the little ferrets, and said "We need to bring her home. I think I saw a mitten on the ground over to the left, under the trees. Would you two please look?" Ping and Puma merely nodded, their faces hot with shame. Who could have imagined that France would have *walked* the quarter mile to get here through the cold night? True, she had said that sledding sounded like a stupid idea when Ping and Puma had discussed it in the Ferret Room yesterday, but then she was pretty much uniformly critical, it was her nature. Still, they should have offered to take her, and they knew it. They trotted over to the tree line and searched the ground, sniffing. "Here!" said Ping. Caught on the bare twigs of a ground hugging blueberry bush was an adult hoomin sized pink and white mitten. He picked it up in his teeth and headed back toward the otters, and Puma whirled to follow him. Ping dropped the mitten at the First otters feet. He said "France could maybe fit in there." The Second said "That was precisely my hope. Would you allow us to assist you Miss Hog?" He asked this of France with a kind smile in his eyes, with the implied promise that he would help her, but allow her as much dignity as he possibly could. It is in an otter's nature to be kind. (Except to fish.) France merely nodded, and the two otters worked in tandem to wiggle her into the mitten so that her face stuck out from the cuff opening, and the thumb protruded from her back like a little pink shark's fin. Her whole body fit into the knit wool hand perfectly. It was a little snug, but she was undoubtedly much warmer, cradled once again in the First otter's arms. "Well," said the First, "let's take Miss Hog home for a good hot mug of cocoa." At the mention of hot cocoa, everybody started speaking all at once, affirming that this was an excellent idea, especially Ping, who loved anything and everything chocolate. "Dude!" said Ping. "Delightful" said the Second otter. "Oh, yes!" said Puma. "NO!" yelled France. And everyone was silent again. She looked at each weasel in turn, and said quietly "I wan' to go sleddin'." "But--"said the First otter... "I WAN' TO GO SLEDDIN' YOU BIG FERRET THIEF! ALL YOU FERRETS ARE THIEFS! AN' YOU SMELLLL LIKE FISH!! I 'ATE YOUUU!" "But--"said the Second otter.... "Nowwwww...." France said quietly with great menace. It's hard to be menacing with a pink wool shark fin protruding from your back, but she managed. And that is how Ping found himself on the First otter's back with France tucked beneath his chest.. Ping was holding onto the First's fur tightly with his paws, and to the mitten thumb with his teeth. France was lying as flat as she could, her whiskers perky with excitement, her eyes bright! And then the First, lying on the snow at the top of the sledding trail, was given a push from behind by the Second.....and the three gathered speed. Faster, faster, and faster the rushed down the hill, the wind sharp in their faces, and it was *France* who was overheard to yell "Deliiiiightfull!" Alexandra in MA [Posted in FML issue 5119]