“Listen to me!” her metallic voice rings out over the noise. “The poison tide does not pose an immediate threat. The ocean is vast, and it is unlikely that the tide will reach us here.”

Her attempt to calm the crowd is quickly interrupted by a deep growl. Thorn, the bear, steps forward, his expression a mirror of the repressed fear all the animals are struggling to hide.

“Are you sure, Roz?” he demands, his tone brooking no uncertainty. “I want to know that we’re safe!”

Beside him, Nettle, his sister, nods firmly in agreement.

Roz surveys the faces of her friends. In the eyes of Chitchat the squirrel and Fink the fox, she sees the same corrosive doubt. Even Swooper, the wise owl, has his feathers ruffled with tension.

“I understand your fears,” Roz says, striving to keep her own concerns hidden. “But only the migratory geese and I have seen how immense the ocean truly is. It seems unlikely that the tide could cross such a vast distance to reach us here. We must remain calm and not give in to panic.”

From her perch on a rock, Gale the seagull lets out a piercing cry.