"A Ghost is Born"

Part 1

 

"Push a little more, Feather," the Healer urged.

 

The gray squirrel strained to push her third baby into the world. He seemed to be larger than the other two and was proving to be a challenge.

 

Between pushes, Feather allowed her gaze to wander across the burrow to her husband, Dusk, who sat in baffled delight as he held in his lap the two squirming infants that had been born only minutes before. She closed her eyes for the briefest of moments between contractions. Her breathing was ragged.

 

"A couple more good pushes should do it," the Healer said.

 

Feather opened her eyes and looked at Healer Slate. The large gray squirrel carried a lifetime of worries in his eyes, but he also carried a lifetime of kindness. His features softened when his gaze fell upon Feather.

 

"You're doing well for your first litter, my dear," the Healer assured. "Star nearly bit my paw in two when our first daughter was born."

 

The young squirrel attempted a weak smile, but the urge to push came back with a vengeance. She gritted her teeth and bore down hard.

 

"You're doing well, Feather," he repeated in his soothing voice. "Just a little mo--"

 

The Healer fell silent. He glanced at Dusk, who leaned forward, worry etched across his face. Oblivious to this exchange, Feather bent her chin to her chest and pushed with all her might.

 

At last, she exhaled with an explosion of air. The third baby was out. She opened her eyes to look at the infant.

 

Healer Slate held the wet, writhing baby in his paws and stood up to his full height for Dusk and Feather to see. They gasped.

 

The baby squirrel was unusually large--and he was as white as snow.