Bristle's Recipe Revolution

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Bristle the hedgehog carefully measured flour into his mixing bowl, his small paws steady despite their prickly coating. The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and contentment. On the counter sat his most precious possession: Grandmother Owl's recipe book, its pages yellowed with age and splattered with mysterious stains. "Just one more recipe left," he whispered, running his paw along the book's worn spine. He'd been baking one pie every day for months now, working through each recipe with dedication. Tomorrow, he would reach the very last page. What would happen then? The question hung in the air like flour dust, making him sneeze.

That night, Bristle couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his cozy burrow, his mind spinning faster than his electric mixer. "What if I forget how to bake once I finish the book?" he wondered aloud to his pillow. "What if Grandmother Owl's recipes are the only good ones in the whole world?" His quills rattled with worry. Outside, the moon cast shadows through his window that looked like giant question marks on the wall. He pulled his blanket up to his snout and tried counting sheep pies jumping over fences. But every time a pie jumped, it asked him the same question: "What will you bake when the recipes run out?" Even in his dreams, the question followed him like a persistent aroma.