The forest trees creaked and groaned as powerful gusts of winds blew them around, their leaves rustling around this way and that as the storm raged on. Rain slapped loudly and heavily against the muddy ground, threatening to soak the wood land creatures below as they scurried around trying to find a place to hide. Lightning flashed on the horizon, momentarily lighting up the sky and then dying down, followed by a crashing explosion that rumbled the ground as thunder came after lightning.

A small woodland mouse stopped in its tracks and darted under a fallen log as the ground rumbled, its small beady eyes searching for the source of the rumbling, and finding none the mouse darted away and continued onward. Its small feet a blur as it ran, dodging deep puddles and leaping fallen branches, the mouses agile form made its way to its burrow and out of the pounding rain.

The mouse felt the odd feeling of dry dirt sticking to its paws and its pace slowed, allowing the small vermin to shake its fur dry and lick its self clean.

The weasel growled as it watched the mouses tail disappear into the hole, licking a drop of water that trickled down his snout. It had just been to late, if it had attacked sooner it would of had the plump little thing, and he wouldn't of been hungry. The weasel sneezed and shoke the water from its fur, and then it loped off into the night. A flash of lightning silhouetting its snake like form, followed by a crash of thunder.

Unbeknowst to the mustelid, high in the tree it had been under two red squirrels fought to stay in their tree, their sharp claws lodged into the bark as their home rocked back and forth. Their bushy tails whiping back and forth with the wind, one of the squirrel gave a horrible screech as it lost its grip and fell, luckily falling onto a lower branch. Its buddy chittered worriedly as the squirrel latched onto the branch, chittering angrily at the wind.

The rain continued to slap onto the ground, creating mud puddles and small streams that flowed down slopes and hills, it was obvious the storm was not letting up any time soon. The rat mother sighed and laid down, its tail curling around the small pups it had as they slept. The rat had just givin birth to the little pink things, who wriggled around, making high pitched squeaks as they called for milk. Pretty soon the pups were all suckling happily and with gusto, the rat mother eventually falling into deep slumber as her children drank their fill.

And the storm continued on through the night, eventually dying down and come the morning it was over, and all was peaceful and calm. The sun rose, the flowers opened up to reveal pedals of all colors and scents, and the animals of the forest all awoke from their slumber. The mouse came from its burrow and ate away at the clovers, the weasel munched at the remains of a bird that it had found during that night, the two squirrels went to stocking away seeds and nuts, and the rat mother went into the woods to hunt. All was as it should be, as if the storm never passed through the small forest that one night.