RAW KINGDOM ENTERTAINMENT

                           Sly

 At the first pale light of dawn, Yoshi and Thumbelina readied themselves for the day’s journey. Before setting out, they turned to their aunt and asked of the strange cries that had stirred them in the night.

“Through the reeds you must go,” she said softly,“and there you shall meet these creatures. Fear not—they are not as fearsome as they sound.”

Just then, the kind and knowing Sly appeared, offering his guidance. He was an old friend of the swamp and knew its winding waters as one knows a favorite path through the forest.
Thumbelina was mounted once more by the hedgehog, and together they slipped into the cool, dark waters, gliding straight toward the reeds, where shadow and secret waited.

“Beware of the buzzard,” warned Sly, his voice low and tense.“He is my bitterest foe, always circling and waiting.”

“There he is!” cried Yellow-Shelly, pointing upward.“Above us!”

Yoshi and Thumbelina lifted their eyes to see the same gray-brown bird that had startled the water rat the day before. It traced slow, patient circles over the swamp, wings steady, eyes watchful.

“If I vanish suddenly, do not take offense,” said Sly, with a shadow of worry in his gaze.

But the buzzard, with a flapping of broad wings, drifted away into the pale sky, and the rat, sensing the change, grew quiet and still.

“Your life is not an easy one,” observed Yoshi, turning his gaze to the water turtle, who glided alongside its niece with slow, measured strokes. The sunlight shimmered faintly upon the rippling surface, and for a moment all was hushed, as if the world itself held its breath in the serene company of river and creature alike.

“Yes, ever must you keep your wits about you,” she said at last, a faint smile in her voice.“But you have seen nothing yet. Wait until we venture into the reeds.”

Then, without warning, the water-rat gave a sharp cry:
“Beware! The pike is prowling beneath us!”

 They glimpsed all at once at the great hunting fish sliding into the shadowed depths. Its long, narrow snout was set with grim, glinting teeth—such as no small bird or wandering fish could hope to escape—and the dark water closed over it as if eager to hide such a peril.

“She is cunning!” shouted Sly.“The danger is not yet over. The cursed creature circles about us, lurking in the deep. After me—faster!” And the water-rat struck out with furious strokes.

“To the shallows! To the shallows!” he cried.

“Do not worry so much,” said the aunt, calm as an old willow by the riverbank.“Sly has reason to fear the fish—yes, he knows its ways—but we turtles need not trouble our hearts too much, she is not much of a danger to us.”

“Once she caught me, mind you, and tried to swallow me whole,” said the aunt, shaking her head.“But I slipped into my trough and near choked her for her trouble. When she found she could not gulp me down, she was forced to let me go. But poor Sly has no such hollow to hide in, and if the pike so much as brushes him, she will tear him apart.”

 They looked again toward the dim water, where the fish flashed like a grey shadow beneath the ripples. She sped toward a small dark speck drifting near the reeds. There, moving slowly upon the glassy surface, was a wild duck, and behind her trailed her downy ducklings, bobbing gently as they followed their mother into the quiet shallows.
Sly at once perceived the pike’s intent, as clearly as if a shadow had passed over the bright water.

“She wants to grab the duck—watch out!” he cried.

“The poor creature! Call out to her, tell her to run! My voice is so feeble she’ll never hear it,” lamented Thumbelina.

“And mine is also not that better,” added the aunt with a weary shake of her head.

 All eyes then turned to the water-rat, for it was he who should have sent warning across the pond. Yet he remained still and silent, as though some hush of the deep reeds had stolen over him, and no sound came from his whiskered mouth.

“Why do you not cry out to her?” asked Yoshi, his voice tight with worry.“The hour has come to spare the poor bird from its doom.”

“She won’t believe me,” Sly answered, and his tone was as chill as winter water.“Let her meet her fate as she may. I hold no love for her kind… They spare no thought for my life, and some would as soon see me perish.”

 A silence fell upon them then, deep and heavy, as each creature stared at the rat in quiet wonder, for none had expected such hard cruelty from one so small.
Yoshi tried to warn the bird by uttering low, troubled grunts upon the breeze. Yet its counsel came too late. The pike had glided unseen beneath its prey, and all who watched beheld the duck beat its wings in sudden terror before it was drawn beneath the dark water.

“It is over,” said the rat in a grave voice.

“How heartless you are!” the turtle reproached him, lifting her head slow with indignation.

“I can’t be anyone else in this swamp,” replied Sly.“Here each fends for his own skin, and none will lift a feather for another. Yet it might be otherwise, were the gentle birds to stand together. Then the greedy pike, and the hawks and falcons, would not tear so many of our kin to pieces with each passing day. In such a place as this, you must grow hard of heart if you mean to survive.”

 Everyone fell silent, for the heartless and churlish words of Sly had struck them like a sudden chill wind. A shadow of distaste settled upon the company, and he grew unpleasant in their eyes. Yellow-Shelly, who was quick to notice such things, leaned close to Thumbelina and whispered that the rat’s guidance was still their safest hope of crossing the treacherous swamp; therefore, they must swallow their pride and keep in his good favor.
When they reached the first whispering stands of reeds, Sly lifted a paw and told them to swim as quietly as they could.

“The danger of open attack is less here,” he murmured,“yet the birds that dwell among these reeds are easily angered. Should they spy us, they’ll raise such a clamor that the whole brood of marsh-buzzards may come wheeling down upon us before we’ve taken ten strokes.”

The reeds shivered faintly, though no wind stirred them, and the water ahead lay dark and still as if listening.