The Wild Robot: Chapters 23-44

Fink the fox was lying on a log, howling in pain, with a face full of long, sharp quills, when Roz appeared.

The fox winced in pain and said through his teeth, “Please, Roz, pull them out faster. This is agony!”

She saw deer give birth to fawns who were up and running in a matter of minutes.

Down went the robot, plummeting into the treetops below.

The ground was littered with broken rocks and splintered wood and pulverized shrubs.

Two dead geese and four smashed eggs lay among the carnage.

The robot walked on through the misty forest for a long time, until she was standing beneath a sprawling oak tree.

He lay in wait as the shadowy creature came closer and closer, and when the time was right, the badger pounced.

“You are a marsupial, and are nocturnal, and are known for mimicking the appearance and smell of dead animals when threatened.”

“It’s true, death scenes are my specialty,” said the opossum.

Roz wasted no time and spoke her next words in the friendliest voice she could muster.

Roz’s friendly demeanor needed some work, but it was a start.

“Oh, it’s nothing, you just have to provide the gosling with food and water and shelter, make him feel loved but don’t pamper him too much, keep him away from danger, and make sure he learns to walk and talk and swim and fly and get along with others and look after himself. And that’s really all there is to motherhood!”

Loudwing sized up the robot.

“I suppose you two will need a rather large home. You’d better speak with Mr. Beaver. He can build anything. He’s a little gruff at times, but if you’re extra friendly, I’m sure he’ll help you out. And if he gives you trouble, remind him that he owes me a favor.”

He pointed out the trees and shrubs that needed to go, and Roz started hacking away.

Slowly, carefully, she rolled up wide strips of sod, exposing the dark, wormy soil.

He was a slow, tottering little thing, but Roz was rarely in a hurry, and together they loved meandering along the forest paths and around the banks of the pond.

“Oh, Roz, you’ve been busy!” said Tawny as her family grazed on the wonderland of growing things.

The beavers became quite fond of gnawing on a certain hardy shrub at the edge of the garden.

The youngsters jostled and splashed and peeped with excitement, and gradually they paddled in the direction of their parents.

One moment everything was tranquil, and the next moment the geese were in a panic.

Her body lurched forward and then backward, again and again, as she struggled to make a decision.

But he stood there and politely nodded as Chitchat rambled on and on and on.

He wiggled his tail feathers and felt himself veering back and forth.

On dreary summer days, they would stay inside.

“A planet is a celestial body orbiting a star.”

On dreary summer evenings, Roz and Brightbill would curl up together, just the two of them, and listen to the rain pattering on the roof of the Nest.

It was a sweltering afternoon, and the heat had put everyone in a bad mood.

Roz told Brightbill about that fateful day in spring.