Canada Moose's Arc

Chapter 1 of 4

Canada Moose stood at his workbench with a length of braided rope in his hooves. He had practiced knots every night since the accident, but today felt different. Today he would make something his friends could see — a reminder that he would never freeze again when they needed him most. The gold cross lay before him, gleaming in the morning light. He had shaped it himself from metal scraps, engraving each curve with care. The center bore a maple leaf, and along the edges he had carved symbols of the forest — pine branches, a paw print, tiny quills. He threaded the braided rope through the top and tied it with a rescue knot he could now do in his sleep. But crafting the cross was only half of what he needed to do. He carried it to the clearing where the mossy boulder sat, the place where he had made his promise. He set the cross at the base of the stone and stepped back. His friends would pass this spot. They would see it and know what it meant. Then he turned toward the wooden tower rising above the trees. He hung the cross around his neck where it rested heavy against his chest. The weight felt right — a constant presence, a daily reminder. Canada Moose climbed the ladder to begin his training, the cross swinging with each step upward.