The badger, so accustomed to the night, was sensitive to the smallest amount of light.
The badger had the wisest of faces, perhaps a hint at the patient soul within, one who felt rich simply by spending each evolving moment.
The badger was the most cute of nighttime hunters, so at home in starlight and under twilight cloud.
From the lightening dawn there came a snout of black and white stripe, soon followed by the ambling form of the badger. A smile grew over Sally's face, a picture postcard of spreading joy. She watched him walk over the grass, those clawed feet on short legs so perfectly quiet. And as he came closer she began to see the world through his eyes, feeling his badger feelings and sensing the world through aromas, sounds and light patterns. She could almost feel her body moving as he did and it gave her the sweetest ideas for the story she was about to write.