As the evening fire died down to a warm red glow, the little duck toddled round the cave to check on everybody. The big old savage was snoring away with his feet warmly wrapped in his socks. The lady had dozed off by the mirror having tried out twenty new hairstyles, and the small chubby barbarian was stuffed full of pie and lying fast asleep by the fire.
The little duck needed to sleep too. She had started the day inside an egg, then ran round the mountains, then helped to fight a giant bear and finally she’d had some scorpion gravy for tea. Not many little ducks have a first day like that, so no wonder she was tired!
She knew that she should be looking for a nest and a mummy duck, but it didn’t matter because she knew where she would be warm and safe. She toddled over to where her new friend was lying. As softly as she could, she climbed up on to Borgon’s head and nestled down in his hair.
‘Quammy,’ she said happily, then she closed her eyes and went to sleep.
