Fauna Sporecap wanted one thing more than anything: to meet the shy forest spirit who granted a single wish to a pure heart. This morning she left her hollow stump home, past the little flower pots and the glowing mushrooms, and marched toward the deep woods. Her purple toad hopped along behind her, blinking up at the tall mossy trees. The rumors said the spirit lived at the far end of the forest, where the oldest trees glowed. Fauna had followed the same narrow path for an hour. Then she stopped. A wall of thorns blocked her way. The bramble had grown thick overnight. Its vines twisted higher than her head. Sharp thorns curled out in every direction. This was the only path deeper in. There was no way around the trees on either side. "Okay," Fauna said. She rubbed her freckled cheeks. "We just push through. Easy." She grabbed a vine and pulled. A thorn bit her palm. She yelped and sucked her finger. The toad croaked and hid behind her boot. Fauna tried again with a stick. She whacked the bramble hard. The stick snapped. The vines did not move. She kicked the thorns and hopped on one foot, wincing. Then she noticed the mushrooms. Soft glowing caps grew along the base of the bramble, the same kind that lit her home. She remembered something. Her mushroom spots always tingled near friendly fungus. Fauna knelt and touched a glowing cap. It was warm. An idea sparked. She dug into her pouch and pulled out a handful of her own spores. She sprinkled them over the wet moss at the bramble's roots. The toad watched. Nothing happened. Fauna held her breath and waited. Then tiny mushrooms sprouted fast. They pushed up through the thorny vines. Their caps swelled and lifted the bramble apart. The thorns creaked and bent. A gap opened wide enough to crawl through. "Yes!" Fauna cried. She scooped up her toad and squeezed through the gap. Thorns scratched her arms, but she made it. She stood on the other side, grinning. Her grin faded. The path ahead did not lead deeper into the woods. It opened onto the edge of a wide, dark ravine. The bramble had hidden it. There was no bridge. Far across, past the drop, she saw the towering trees glowing with sparkling mushrooms. The spirit's home. Fauna looked down. The ravine fell away into shadow. She could not see the bottom. Her toad clung to her shoulder and shivered. Behind her, the bramble slid closed again. The mushrooms shrank back into the moss. The gap sealed shut. Fauna faced the ravine. The glowing grove waited across the gap. Now she had to find a way over.