Milo blinked open his eyes and let out a worried sigh. The nest beside his own was empty again—Max had not returned from his nighttime adventure. Milo peeked out the hole, the morning air tinged with the scent of dew and distant clover.

Milo scampered across the garden path, whiskers twitching as he searched for clues. He spotted tiny pawprints in the muddy earth, leading toward a towering patch of sunflowers. "Max, are you out here? If you’re hiding, this isn’t funny!"

Milo hesitated at the entrance, heart pounding, but he pressed on, following the faint trail. The winding paths twisted and turned, making every step a guess. "I have to be brave. Max needs me," Milo whispered, voice trembling.

Mr. Tully the Turtle, his eyes kind and slow-moving, blinked at Milo. "Looking for someone, young friend? I saw a little mouse running toward the pond, looked a lot like you," he murmured. "Thank you, Mr. Tully! I’ll hurry!"

Milo darted along the log, careful with each step. In the reeds, he heard a faint, familiar voice—"Milo! Over here!" Relief flooded Milo as he spotted Max, mud-splattered but grinning from ear to ear.

"I was so worried, Max! Where did you go?" "I wanted to find the biggest clover for breakfast, but I got lost," Max admitted sheepishly. Milo smiled, squeezing his brother tight, and together they made their way home, the adventure behind them and the promise of many more ahead.