Testing the Ground

A cool breeze moved through the valley. Beneath me, the cushion of green moss felt damp and firm. I shifted my balance forward, testing my footing with steady, deliberate weight. Ahead stood a single green shoot, fresh against the earth. I lowered my head and touched the tip of the leaf with my muzzle. It bent softly and sprang back. The water murmured over the stones below. I stayed there, planted firmly on the moss.