The next day, as the Wind Dancers stretched their wings and shook out their tails, getting ready for rehearsal, Sumatra gave herself a pep talk:
When Brisa does a flop instead of a flip, she ordered herself in her head, don’t roll your eyes.
When Sirocco is gangly instead of graceful, don’t cringe.
And when Kona slips when she ought to slide, simply smile.
And then I’m going to try something new, Sumatra thought. Instead of saying nothing at all, I’ll say something nice! That’ll boost my friends’ confidence! And with more confidence, surely they’ll start dancing better.
Then she clapped her hooves together and said, “Okay, everybody. Let’s start off with a simple combination of whirls and twirls, shall we?”
She saw her friends exchange worried glances and giggled to herself.
Wait’ll they hear all the nice things I’m going to say to them, she thought.
Only minutes later, Sirocco gave Sumatra her first chance.
“Here goes!” he announced. “Start with a whirl, right?”
He whizzed in a circle.
“Then twirl!” he said, wobbling into a spin in the opposite direction. “Then, whirl, twirl, whirl a-GAIN—aaaaah!”
Sirocco had whirled and twirled so wildly that he’d landed right into a tree trunk—a tree trunk that was home to a beehive!
“Oh, no!” Sirocco cried as his thunk made honey come pouring out of the hive, right onto his head.
“Why are you upset?” Sumatra said lightly. “You were on a honey hunt when we started this adventure. Now, you’ve found it. You love honey! And look—”
Sumatra pointed at a small swarm of bees that had flown out of the hive to buzz angrily at Sirocco.
“—the bees are annoyed, but they’re not stinging.”
Sirocco looked at Sumatra suspiciously—while he indeed licked honey off of his nose.
“Yeah, I like honey,” he said. “But you like perfect dance moves even better. Don’t you have any criticism for me?”
Sumatra cocked her head and thought.
“You know, Sirocco,” she said admiringly, “I’ve never seen anyone do dance moves so fast! You’re not just a whirler. You’re a whirlwind!”
“Uh, thanks!” Sirocco said with surprise (and another big lick of honey).
Next came a kick sequence—and time for some “nice” words for Kona.
“Whoops!” Kona said as her first kick accidentally connected with an apple hanging from a low tree branch. The apple flew through the air and landed with a plop in a mud puddle near the creek.
“I’ll try again,” Kona said with a sigh.
Kick! Plop!
This time, Kona’s hoof met with an acorn. It, too, sailed through the sky, landing right next to the apple in the puddle.
“Oooh!” Kona growled with frustration. She kicked some more.
Plop! Plop! Plop!
By the time Kona finished practicing her kicks, she was hot and sweaty, and the mud puddle was crowded with two more acorns, one yellow dandelion head, and a mightily disgruntled bluebird!
“I’m awful!” Kona wailed.
“No, you’re not. You’re a sharpshooter!” Sumatra countered. “Do you realize that every time you kicked something, it landed in exactly the same place? Wow! What aim!”
“O-kay,” Kona said. “Whatever you say, Director.”
Finally, there was Brisa.
“Try this, Brisa,” Sumatra said, doing a tuck and roll through the air.
“Okay!” Brisa said. But instead of a tuck and roll, she did a roll and tuck. The jewels in her magic halo made a lovely tinkling sound as she did.
“Um, now how about this?” Sumatra proposed. She lifted her left front leg to do a pretty pirouette, followed by a backflip.
“Sure thing!” Brisa chirped. With a tinkle, tinkle, tinkle, she pointed her right leg, then did a front flip.
“Can you try just a twist?” Sumatra said (with a tiny sigh). She turned to the right.
Tinkle, tinkle.
Brisa turned left.
Sumatra forced a smile and made herself pat Brisa’s pretty mane.
“Your jewels sound very pretty when you dance,” she offered lamely.
“Thanks!” Brisa said. But then she looked wistful as she gave one of her jewels a tinkly tap. Kona and Sirocco were looking a little sad, too.
Oh, no! I don’t think my plan is working, Sumatra thought to herself in a panic. Quick! Say more nice things!
“You’re almost there—all of you,” she declared to her friends. “You just need a little more practice is all!”
She waited for her friends to crack a smile, maybe even do an enthusiastic kick or two.
But they only hung their heads.
Desperately, Sumatra tried to think of something—anything—that might make her friends feel good.
“How about taking a break!” she said enthusiastically. “And then we can start working on our big finale!”
“Okay,” Brisa, Sirocco, and Kona said dully.
The three Wind Dancers flew to a nearby creek and plunked their sore hooves into the soothing water.
But Sumatra was filled with too much nervous energy to rest.
“I’m going to go over there,” she told her friends, pointing at a bit of shade beneath a nearby willow tree. “I’ll work on some more choreography.”
Sumatra ducked beneath the wavy willow branches and tried to dream up a fabulous finale for her dance show.
“And a-one, a-two, a one, two, three,” she counted to herself as she choreographed her dance. But between the ones, twos, and threes, she was distracted by snatches of her friends’ conversation.…
“What are we going to do?” Brisa asked Kona and Sirocco. “I’m just not sure we’re going to get these dance moves. Sumatra will be so disappointed!”
“And not just Sumatra!” Sirocco complained. “What about the audience? When we mess up all our dance moves, we’ll be embarrassed! The snakes will hiss. The porcupines will throw quills. The skunks will make a stink!”
“At least Sumatra’s being nice,” Brisa pointed out. “And she must mean it, because you know Sumatra. If she can’t say something nice—”
“—she doesn’t say anything at all,” Kona finished. “You’re right. And that’s why we just have to keep trying. For Sumatra. Putting on this dance show is her dream!”
“I guess you’re right,” Sirocco said. “Even if we are really sore.”
“And tired,” Brisa agreed.
“And untalented,” Kona said, frowning in disappointment.
“We just have to work harder,” Brisa added with a sigh.
Sumatra bit her lip and peeked out at her friends through the leafy willow branches. They were all staring gloomily at their hooves. The flowers in Kona’s magic halo were droopy. Brisa’s jewels were dull. And Sirocco’s butterflies were listless.
Sumatra flew up to sit on one of the top branches of the weeping willow. Honestly, she was feeling sort of weepy herself! She didn’t know what to do.
If I make my friends keep dancing, she thought, tears gathering in her eyes, they’ll be miserable.
But if I call the dance show off, Sumatra knew, then I’ll be miserable.
Sumatra sniffed quietly on her bobbing willow branch.
What do I do? she wondered. I meant all the nice things I said. Sirocco is super-fast. And Kona does have great aim. And Brisa’s jewels are very musical. My friends are really fabulous—just not for a dance show!
Sumatra shook her head sorrowfully and waited for hopelessness to fill her soul.
But instead, she was filled with something else—an idea!
“A fabulous idea!” Sumatra breathed to herself. “One that’s so crazy, it just might work!”
She burst out of the willow tree with an excited rustle. Her friends looked her way with heavy-lidded eyes.
“Aren’t you a happy horsey,” Kona observed carefully. “Do you have some more complicated new choreography for us?”
“Nope!” Sumatra replied. “Just an announcement. I’ve decided that we’re ready. The show is going to go on—tomorrow! Let’s spend the rest of the afternoon spreading the word through the woods. And then, we’ll have our final dress rehearsal.”
“What?!” Brisa shrieked. “But we have so much more work to do. Our twirls are terrible!”
“Our pirouettes are awful!” Kona added.
“And our jazz hooves!” Sirocco cried dramatically. “Don’t even get me started.”
“Don’t worry, guys,” Sumatra declared with a gleam in her eyes. “Leave everything to me!”
“That settles it, then,” Sirocco said with wide, scared eyes. “I’m now worried!”