1Pip and Moss lived along the same bend of the river, where a flat grey stone sat half in the sun and half in the shade. They each liked to press things against it — wet leaves, berry-stained paws, bits of charcoal from old fire rings. But today, something new was waiting on the stone.
2A single blue crayon, fat and waxy, still in its paper sleeve. Pip waddled up on all fours and sniffed it. Moss came splashing out of the shallows at the same moment and sniffed it too. Their whiskers almost touched.
3Both paws reached at once. Pip got there first and drew a long wobbly line across the stone. It looked like water — or maybe sky. Moss watched, tail flicking. Then Pip set the crayon down and nudged it forward with one wet nose. Moss rolled it gently between both front paws and added a curve. Then another. Small blue hills, or perhaps waves. Then Moss nudged it back. They took turns like that, back and forth, leaving the crayon in the middle each time so neither had to ask. After a while, Pip pressed a muddy paw beside the blue marks. Brown smudge.
4Moss blinked — then scrambled to the bank and found a crushed yellow flower, dabbing it carefully with the tip of one claw. Yellow smear, right next to the brown. The picture was changing into something.
5Pip sniffed along the riverbank and came back carrying a stem of bright green watercress. Moss used the crayon to draw a dark outline around it before it wilted. Green inside blue lines — it looked alive.
6Moss pointed a paw upstream, where the evening light was going orange against the reeds. Pip understood immediately, dipping both paws into a patch of red clay at the water's edge. Orange-ish. Close enough.
7They pressed it in big soft shapes across the top of the stone — a warm glow above all the blue and green and brown below.
8The crayon was worn to a small stub by the time they stopped. The stone held a picture that was all river, all evening, all theirs: blue water, yellow flowers, green stems, and that soft red-orange sky pressing down warm over everything.
9Pip sat back on haunches and looked at it. Moss sat back on haunches and looked at it.
10Then Moss looked at Pip. Pip looked at Moss. The stub of blue crayon sat between them in the last of the sunlight, still useful, still there.
