a/n: vague mention of tragic stuff in this chapter. I SWEAR THE TRAGEDY IN THIS FIC WILL BE MINIMAL AHHH

I don't blame Mom. I mean...I can't.

Sixteen brothers and sisters. We were more than a family.

We were like an army. A great big family-army.

So that one morning, it was right after a big rain, I think?

Yeah, must've been. We'd all crammed into that hole in the side of the hill the night before. Us and all the crunchy, crinkly leaves.

I remember they tickled.

I remember falling asleep under leaves...and my family-army.

When the big rain stopped, it was morning...and they left in a hurry. Had to. Wait too long and everything dries out.

That's when the Swoopers always came out.

When I woke up, I was all alone. Alone...but still warm. I could smell them...smell Mom. So I scampered out, shivering as wet blades of grass slid over my fur.

Soggy flowers all over the place. They smell like red and gold.

I ran so fast. They were so close!

So close...

So I can't even blame myself. When that first Swooper zoomed overhead, I did what Mom told me to do.

Wiggle down into the dirt. Curl up, real small-like.

I'm pretty big now, but back then, I could get so small. Tiny little peanut.

Close my eyes, just like Mom said. Breathe real soft.

A few more Swoopers went by. Three? Four? I'm not the best at counting.

Little peeps.

Stay tiny, stay still.

Stay so quiet.

Don't shake...don't cry. Little peanut in the dirt, wait for dark.

I smell like red and gold flowers...and I hate it.

Cry? No...no no. Wiggle lower and wait for dark.

Swoopers screeching...they found someone?

Be the stillest little peanut. Wait...wait, then go.

Keep going, find my family-army.

Little peeps, further away.

Don't cry, little-me.

Sleep, just sleep.

Minutes later? Hours later? It's dark...and I'm too tired to notice the change.

I'm warm again.

Big fuzzy all around me...but this little peanut is still in the dirt.

Then, I hear a voice...her voice.

"It's safe now, little one."

Big fuzzy talking to me...and she smells like red and gold, too. But I still can't look.

"I'll wait with you. As long as you need...until you're ready."

Her tongue...it's warm. And scratchy.

"That's it, little one. Wake up, wake up."

I wriggle out of the dirt...and right into big, fuzzy warmth.

Family-army...just one. One little peanut. Tiny peeps all gone, flew away on the wind.

She lets me climb onto her, little paws grasping.

The first time I manage to open my eyes, everything's blurry. Blurry and...red?

Her ear. And right away, she can tell I noticed.

"Those owls won't be back again. My name is Elsa...can I take you somewhere safe?"

I nod. I sniffle. I hold on tight. Little peanut all cried out.

When she moves, it's like she glides.

Little peanut...little Anna...feels safe.

Little peep...my own voice.

"Your poor ear."

Her laugh tinkles like little bells.

"I'm...my name is Anna."

She nods. The cool night breeze sends a shiver through her...and it makes me wish I was bigger.

Little peanut hugs aren't all that warm. I do my best, anyway.

"You're very brave, Anna."

Little peanut's crying again.

Family-army up to two?

I hope so.

Sunday morning, Elsa awoke in her hay-bed to find a clump of leaves hanging down over her right eye. She yawned, stretched, and glanced lazily around the barn...only to catch the eye of Buuli, the oldest cow on the farm.

A sympathetic smile as Buuli cocked her head to one side, the bell around her neck tinkling. "Looks like Anna got more of those leaves for you. Still hurts after all this time?"

Elsa glanced down and smiled uneasily, then used her tail to carefully nudge the leaf-lump back over her scarred ear. "Hasn't hurt for two months."

Brown eyes intimated the unspoken question, and Elsa sighed as she glanced towards the ajar barn door and lowered her voice.

"She...well, I mean..."

Just then, Anna came barreling into the barn, her front paws up on a dented can of green beans as she rolled it along the ground.

"Elsa! Elsa, check it out! No wait wait, don't move, let the leaves work their magic."

Giggling sweetly, Elsa flicked her tail from side to side and nodded.

"Is that this month's mystery can? You know Farmer Kristoff's going to give you weird looks again if he sees you shoving that out the window like before."

Anna huffed and puffed her way through the barn, pulled up by the hay-bed, and hefted the can upright. "Hey now, there might be neat stuff inside we could use for our trip next week!"

Elsa rolled her eyes, but nodded anyway as Anna fussed with the wad of leaves over her right ear.

I let her do it because it makes her feel better. About...everything.

"Alright. We'll clean off that big, flat rock out back and give it a few tries this afternoon."

Anna whooped and pumped her paws, before going right back to rearranging the medicinal leaves.

"I've got a real good feeling about this mystery can, Elsa."

Little family-army going on a road trip!