Flap flap swooosh! Rue the bluebird flew above the trees. Her red scarf fluttered behind her in the wind. She circled once, then landed on a tall branch that looked over the whole valley.
Clover the rabbit hopped up the hill below. Her soft ears twitched, and her tiny compass bounced lightly on her chest.
“Rue, how do you know which way to go when you fly so far?” Clover asked. “The forest looks so big to me.”
Rue puffed out her chest. “Birds use the sky as a compass.”
Clover touched her own compass. “Like the little needle that points North?”
Rue nodded. “Yes. But our compass is made of the sun, the stars, and the pull of the earth.”
Clover blinked up at the bright sky. “You can read the sky?”
Rue laughed softly. “That’s right. In the daytime we watch the sun. At night we follow the stars. And even when clouds cover everything, we can still feel a tiny pull that tells us which way is home.”
Clover crouched low and looked up again. The sun slipped behind a far ridge. A few early stars blinked awake.
“So your compass is the whole sky,” Clover whispered.
Rue smiled. “Every creature finds its way in its own style. Your compass points and swings. Mine shines and glows above me.”
A soft breeze brushed through the trees. Whoooosh!
Rue lifted her wings. “Come on, Clover. Let’s follow the sky.”
Clover tucked her compass close and hopped after her friend, happy to have her own guide and happy that Rue had hers too.
