Seedling Exams (3 page)

‘I'm fine,' she said quickly, though one of her wings was throbbing. ‘I startled him a bit, that's all! And . . . then I fell over.' She
couldn't
let Mr Woodleaf know that she was having problems already – this was her most important practical!

‘Oh, I see,' said her teacher. ‘Well, be sure to move more slowly around him next time, until he gets used to you.'

.

.

Twink nodded vigorously, and Mr Woodleaf left her alone with the starling again. She and the bird looked at each other. He had stopped squawking, but was still glaring at her, his speckled feathers ruffled ominously.

Twink sighed. She could tell already that it was going to be a very long term.

.

Chapter Three

‘Dear, oh dear!' Mrs Hover shook her bright pink head. ‘That
is
a nasty bruise. How did you say you did it again?'

‘I, um – fell over,' mumbled Twink, feeling hot. She sat perched on one of the mossy beds in the infirmary as the matron rubbed arrowroot salve on her sore wing.

Saying a quick spell over a pinch of fairy dust, Mrs Hover sprinkled it over the injury. Immediately, the harsh throbbing stopped. ‘There you are, dear – is that better?' she asked cheerfully.

.

.

Twink stretched her wing, glancing over her shoulder at it. ‘Yes, much, Mrs Hover – thanks!' she said in relief. She hopped off the bed.

‘Not at all,' said Mrs Hover, putting away the fairy dust. ‘Now, you take it easy for a few days. No high-speed flying for you, my girl!'

‘No, I won't,' said Twink. She hesitated, biting her lip. ‘Um, Mrs Hover . . . what would you do if – if you had a patient who didn't like you? I mean – who didn't like
anyone
?'

Mrs Hover looked surprised. ‘Well, I'm glad to say that such patients are few and far between! All of my Glitterwings girls are lovely.'

‘But if you
did
,' pressed Twink.

Mrs Hover's plump face creased in thought. ‘I'd just have to be patient, I suppose. So long as you're kind and consistent, most folk will come around.'

‘Consistent?' asked Twink anxiously.

Mrs Hover nodded, smoothing down the bed. ‘That's right. I'd make sure that I was always very steady and kind, you see – it's no good being kind one day and snappish the next! Patients have to know that they can trust you. And most of them will, in time.'

‘Oh,' murmured Twink. ‘So . . . you think it just takes time?'

Mrs Hover gave her a keen look. ‘Is everything all right, my dear?'

‘Oh, yes!' said Twink. She smiled. ‘I've got to go now, Mrs Hover – but thanks!'

Flying back to Peony Branch, Twink realised that Mrs Hover was right. It had been daft of her to try to be the starling's friend instantly – they were bad-tempered birds, like Mr Woodleaf had said. It would take time to make him like her.

‘I've just got to be patient,' she muttered. She
would
win the starling over, and show Mr Woodleaf that she could work well with any animal there was! After all, animals always loved her parents . . . surely she'd inherited just a little of their skill?

After dinner the next evening, Twink and Bimi borrowed a glow-worm lantern from the supplies branch and flew down to the animal infirmary. The light from their lantern gleamed brightly on the snowy ground, showing the way.

Bimi had hardly stopped talking about her dormouse all day. ‘He's
so
cute,' she enthused now as they flew along. ‘And his fur's so soft! I've got a thistle comb in my bag, and I'm going to see if he'll let me groom him tonight.'

‘That's a good idea,' said Twink. She hoped her smile didn't look half-hearted. She was very pleased for Bimi, but she wasn't really in the mood to hear how wonderful her dormouse was.

.

.

‘Well, he's a bit nervous,' said Bimi thoughtfully. ‘I'm hoping that he'll relax soon.'

‘I'm sure he will.' Twink gazed towards the infirmary, wondering what sort of reception she was going to get from the starling. Would he be even grumpier than before?

Suddenly Bimi seemed to realise that Twink might not be feeling as eager as she was. A guilty flush lit her face. ‘Oh, Twink, I'm sorry! What about your starling? Are you nervous about seeing him again?' Twink had sheepishly told her friend what had really happened.

‘A little,' she confessed as they landed. ‘But I'll win him over, you'll see! This is one practical I've
got
to do well in.'

They pushed the door open. Pix was already there, and waved to them across the log.

‘Look, I've got my bird eating out of my hand!' she called happily. ‘You love poppy seeds, don't you?' she crooned to the blue and yellow bird, reaching up to stroke its neck.

‘Great,' said Twink, forcing a smile. She glanced down the length of the infirmary. The alcove hid the starling from her, but she knew he was in there, crouched in his untidy nest.

Not wanting to admit to herself that she was stalling, Twink drifted over to Bimi's dormouse, exclaiming with her friend over his sleek fur and sensitive, twitching nose.

‘He's lovely, Bimi,' she said sincerely, stroking his round ear.

‘I know.' Bimi's cheeks were pink with excitement as she combed the dormouse's fur. He sighed happily, his eyes half closing in bliss.

Finally Twink could put it off no longer. Straightening her shoulders, she flitted down the log.

The starling seemed just as grimy and ill-tempered as the day before. He stared coldly at her, looking as if he had been expecting her to come back, just to irritate him.

‘Hi,' said Twink. She stretched her mouth into a cheerful smile. ‘I'm sorry about yesterday. I didn't mean to startle you.'

The starling's eyes narrowed. ‘
Squaawwkk,'
he said. It didn't sound like an apology.

‘Are you thirsty?' asked Twink. ‘Or would you like something to eat?'

The bird accepted both food and water, but hardly looked at Twink as his beak pecked at the buckets. When he had finished, he glared at her and tucked his head under his good wing.

Kind and consistent!
thought Twink. ‘Why don't I sing you to sleep?' she suggested. The bird didn't respond. Clearing her throat, Twink began to sing a soft fairy lullaby.

.

‘Fluttering fairy,

Been flying so long,

When the moon shows,

It's time for this song.

Your mossy bed's calling,

Your wings feeling tired,

Come creep into bed,

For it's time to –
oh!'

.

Twink
darted backwards as the bird swiped at her with his good wing, only just missing her this time. With a pointed stare, he shuffled about in his nest so that his back was to her, and shoved his head under his wing again.

Twink bit her lip. ‘I . . . suppose you don't like music, then.'

The bird ignored her. Twink gathered up the food and water buckets with a sigh. Never mind,
she thought. It was going to take time, that was all. She'd just have to try again tomorrow.

But the next day came, and was no different – and the next day, and the next. After a week with no success, Twink flew glumly to the wood one afternoon to work on her Flower Power practical. It wasn't easy to put Creature Kindness out of her head, but she knew she had to – or else she wouldn't pass any of her other practicals, either!

‘Choose a young tree,'
she murmured, looking around her. There, that one would do: a slender birch sapling with slim, snowy-white branches.

She leaned against its trunk and frowned uncertainly. Imagine being part of the tree,
Miss Petal had said – but how did you do that? She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.

I'm part of the tree,
she thought.
Part of the tree . . .

The world around her seemed to fade. Twink pictured herself inside the tree's roots, plunging deep into the ground. Then she was going upwards, flowing with the sap that moved through the tree's trunk and limbs. Finally she became its branches, reaching up towards the grey sky . . .

Hello!
said a friendly voice in her mind. An image of a tall, slim girl dressed in shimmering white popped into Twink's head.

‘Oh!' gasped Twink, her eyes flying open.

What's wrong? Don't you want to talk to me?
asked the girl.

Um
. . .
yes!
thought Twink in a daze.
Are you the tree's dryad?

Of course!
laughed the girl.
I'm called Sheena. Who are you?

I'm Twink Flutterby,
thought Twink.
I go to school at Glitterwings Academy.

Her heart was thumping so hard that she barely heard Sheena's response. She was actually talking with a dryad – a real dryad! And she could see her so clearly: a snowy-pale, slender girl with shining green eyes and long leafy hair.

I'm glad I don't have to go to school,
giggled Sheena, propping her chin on her hand.
Being a dryad is much more fun!

.

.

Oh, but school can be fun, too,
answered Twink eagerly.
We do all sorts of things.

She and the dryad chatted for ages. Twink learned that Sheena was three years old, and that she loved to feel the moonlight on her hair. Sheena, in turn, was fascinated by Twink's description of her family and home.

Finally Twink glanced at the setting sun, and realised with a start what time it was.
I've got to go!
she thought, jumping up.
It's been glimmery talking to you, Sheena.

Come and visit me again,
said Sheena, blowing her a kiss from a pale hand.

I will!
promised Twink. She skimmed back to school with a wide grin on her face. Well, at least that was
one
practical she had sorted!