Stone Circle My siblings are my best friends

His sister seemed excited with the idea of this game, but Merrit felt his tension grow. "A stick?" And he eyed the motions of his sister. The tiny creature was the farthest thing from a stick he'd ever seen. Sticks didn't squirm when you took your paw away from them. Sticks didn't try to run.

But his sister tossed the chipmunk like none of that mattered, and in the heat of surprise, Merrit lurched forward. He was too late to do anything, and he watched the helpless creature arch through the air until the pull of the earth brought the body back down with a thump. The fall must have stunned the chipmunk again; this time it didn't try to run.

Steph urged him forward, and Merrit glanced back, uncertain before he leaned in closer and inspected the creature again. The quickest movement shook the chipmunk's sides, betraying the life the creature clung so feverishly to. He sensed the panic, the fear, and Merrit backed up with a shake of his head, clear upset in his eyes. He could play with sticks, but sticks didn't breathe. Sticks didn't have a heartbeat.

And this tiny creature did.