Pom and the Warmest Spot

Pop! went the little stove. A spark jumped, and the fire glowed orange. Arlo the fox cub lifted his head to listen. He was a small fox with a soft red tail and two black ears that never stopped wiggling.

Outside, the snow fell without a sound. It made the window glow pale blue, and the moon hung over Snowy Mountain like a lantern. One flake landed on another flake, soft and slow.

Tova the yak sat in her big chair. She was big and brown and kind, and her wool was warm as a coat. The whole cabin smelled of wood smoke and cinnamon.

Arlo had warm milk with cinnamon in it. Then he had a bath. The water was warm and steamy, and the bubbles went pop, pop, pop on his nose. Pom had a little bath too. "Pom is wet," said Arlo. "I'll set him somewhere warm to dry," said Tova.

Then it was time for bed. Arlo yawned. Yawwwn. He looked at his bed. He looked at his two paws. "Pom is gone," he said.

"Pom is somewhere warm," said Tova. "Where is warm?" "Shhh, says the snow. Pop, says the fire," said Arlo. "I will look."

He looked in the bath. One last bubble went pop. No Pom. "Shhh, says the snow. Pop, says the fire," said Tova.

He looked under his blanket. He found his own warm spot, still round like a nest. No Pom. "Shhh, says the snow. Pop, says the fire," they said together.

He looked in Tova's slippers. One slipper, two slippers, big and soft. No Pom. "Shhh, says the snow. Pop, says the fire," said Arlo.

"Warm, warm, warm," said Arlo. His ears went flat. He sat down on the rug and wrapped his tail around his paws. "Pom is lost."

Tova gave a big yak yawn. Yawwwn. Then Arlo saw something. Her blanket had slipped off her knees and onto the floor. Her big gray feet looked cold and lonely.

Arlo picked up his own blanket. It was small and red and soft, and it was his favorite thing. He carried it to Tova and tucked it over her knees. "For you," he said.

Tova looked down at the little red blanket. "Oh," she said. "Warm." She smiled her slow yak smile. "And now I know where warm is. My knitting basket sits right by the stove."

Arlo ran to the basket. He lifted the soft gray shawl. There was Pom! Round and warm and dry, with his stitched smile. "Pom found the warmest spot," said Tova.

Arlo hugged Pom to his nose. Pom smelled of cinnamon and wood smoke. "You found him," said Arlo. "We found him," said Tova.

"But your knees," said Arlo. "They will be cold." "Then you take my big soft blanket," said Tova. "It's warm from my chair."

So Arlo climbed into bed with Pom. Tova laid her big soft blanket over him, warm from her chair. Then she sat down with the little red blanket on her knees. The big chair went creak, very softly. "Goodnight, little fox," she said.

The moon looked in at the window. It made a soft white patch on the floor. The snow went shhh. The fire went pop, pop, pop.

Arlo yawned one more yawn. Yawwwn. Pom was warm in his arms. The blanket was warm on his toes. And Tova was warm in her chair, with the little red blanket on her knees, watching the snow fall flake on flake.

"Sleep well," said Tova. "Shhh, says the snow," said Arlo, very softly. "Pop, says the fire."

Soon his eyes grew heavy. The window was a square of quiet blue. The cabin grew dim and still, and the pale snow kept falling, soft and slow, flake on flake, without a sound.