Title: All Things Wise and Wonderful

Universe: Basil-Great Mouse Detective/"The Wind in the Willows" and "The Willows in Winter"

Summary: Mole and Dawson find each other kindred spirits.

A/N: sequel to "All Creatures Great and Small" (chapt 6) but can work as a stand-alone.

Several pairs of eyes watched as Basil crouched to the ground, his nose a whisker's breadth away from the plethora of pawprints there.

"These are not the tracks of a weasel," he proclaimed at last.

"Not weasel tracks!" repeated Badger. Of all the animals of the wood, he had been the most adamant that the weasels were to blame for the thefts, no matter how they protested their innocence. "What creature, then?"

"It is difficult to tell," Basil admitted. "It is very similar to the tracks of an otter – "

Badger interrupted, "No otter in or out of the Wild Wood would do such a thing to a fellow creature!"

"May I ask, sir," replied Basil icily, "if you retained my services to confirm your own theories or to find out the truth? If it is the former, I shall bid you a good day and return to London. If it is the latter, I must insist you allow me to complete my investigation without hindrance. Now, then. As I said, the tracks are similar to those of an otter but the far too small for an adult."

"Might it be an otter kit who knows no better?" Ratty suggested.

Basil shook his head. "There are too many small differences. No, I believe these to be the tracks of a mink."

"A mink!" Badger shouted. "There has never been a mink in these parts!"

"Nevertheless, there is one now," Basil retorted. This instigated such a ruckus that I found it wiser to slip away quietly until order could once more be restored. I gazed out upon the rushing of the River and felt a strange, deep-felt longing. We had no such thing in London. Sometimes it was easy to forget, living as a city mouse, that all mice and mouse-relatives were once country dwellers.

"Ratty loves the River too," a small voice behind me volunteered. I turned and saw that the Mole had followed me away from the crowds. I could not blame him; he had struck me as a most timid soul and no doubt the arguing had discomforted him.

"I like paddling about with Ratty on the gentler parts of the River," Mole continued. "But sometimes there is a gypsy streak in Ratty that I cannot understand. Once he nearly joined up with a sea otter and left the Woods for the Sea Beyond."

I smiled. Sometimes I saw a similar thing in Basil. "Would you have gone with him?"

"Oh no!" Mole shuddered a bit. "I have no desire to go out into the Wild World. I have seen enough to content me. Enough, and too much," he added so softly I scarcely heard him. I pressed him as to what he meant, and he blushed deeply.

"A while back, Otter's nephew, Portly, went missing. Ratty and I found him. He was sound asleep and perfectly fine but . . . well, you see, he wasn't alone. That is, we don't think he was alone but it is so hard to remember. All we have are wisps of song and memory," he admitted. "And then, last winter, I fell through the ice and I think . . . that is to say . . . I-I think I was in the same Presence that Ratty and I had felt before. I only remember bits and parts but I was warm and happy and at peace, and when I awoke I was cold and sore and alone. So you see, I have no need to see Beyond after that."

I was silent for so long that I fear Mole thought I did not believe him. He had begun to move away when I found my voice. "I have seen Him as well, I think. But it is as you said: I can only remember bits and parts of it."

Mole turned back and looked at me with such compassion that I was moved to tell him what I had not even confided to Basil. "It was last year for me as well. Basil had been called out of London on what he thought was so trifling a matter he suggested that I not accompany him. It turned out to be far more complicated than he anticipated and he was away for four days. During that time, I had gone into the cellar of Mr. Sherlock Holmes. Basil and I were used to moving about there freely but no other mouse, not even our housekeeper, Mrs. Judson, truly dared set a paw into the cellar.

"I don't recall what errand had sent me there, only that I went alone. Unbeknownst to me at the time, someone had set out spring-traps. I realized the danger too late and I was not quick enough. The trap caught my left hind paw and the force of the jolt sent my medical bag flying from my paws."

I repressed a flinch at the memory. I had screamed aloud when that cruel metal bar crashed down upon me but that I could not share. "I could not lift the bar alone and nobody knew where I was. I gnawed off the edge of the wood to use as a lever but the best it could do was ease the pressure on my paw so that circulation was not cut off completely. I took off my coat and tried to use it to flick my bag closer to me but to no avail."

I hesitated. This was part of the story I had not told Basil, and hoped he had not deduced it. "I think, if I had been able to reach my bag, I would have amputated my paw to gain my freedom. But I could not reach it. Just as well, I suppose," I said, trying to smile as I wriggled the paw in question. It ached fiercely at times but it was whole and still attached.

"How did you survive?" asked Mole.

"Mr. Holmes himself found me after his housekeeper told him the trap had been sprung. He put me into a box lined with cotton wool. Around that time Basil finally received Mrs. Judson's frantic telegrams and returned to London. I think Mr. Holmes knows of us. It is hardly a stretch of the imagination; he is the greatest detective among humans. He left the box open on the floor near the knothole we use as part of tunnels, and Basil found me and had me brought back to our home. I was very ill for weeks, in and out of consciousness, delirious with fever and weakened from days without food or water. That's when . . . " I could speak no more.

"That's when you felt Him," Mole finished for me. I nodded.

"Just as you described," I whispered. "I was warm, and safe, and there was no pain. I was content to stay there but I was not permitted to. At least, that is the impression I retain."

The Mole smiled knowingly. "Ratty said that he thought it was kinder this way, to not remember everything. This way, our hearts don't ache for things we cannot have in the Here and Now."

"That is a wise way of looking at it," I mused. And we smiled at each other, kindred spirits bound by a shared experience.