An Invitation

It was a glorious morning, with the clearest blue sky but bitterly cold. A sharp frost had descended in the early hours and the woods were silent apart from the occasional rustle from piles of leaves and the Green Woodpeckers' laughing cry.
Mrs Badger drew back the curtains to this beautiful scene, a dusting of icing sugar on the branches round the window, sparkling in the sunlight. A plump Robin glanced back at her and flew to the rickety gate which led into the woods. Then she went into the hallway and saw the post had arrived early.
' Oh look dear, we've been invited, festive drinks on Davenham!'
   Mrs Badger rushed into the back room where Mr Badger was just putting a large rather mossy log onto the grand fire he had been building in the inglenook.
' Oh my dear, how very exciting.' Mr Badger took the card, his claws now much more delicate from all the sessions at Paws & Claws. ' Shall I send an email to accept the invitation?'
' Oh no dear, it must be handwritten and in quite a formal way, I feel. We are so honoured to have this invitation. After our dreadful behaviour in August, I am surprised that we are invited at all. I suppose we did tidy up as much as possible and I believe there is generally a warm welcome on board.'
'Come along dear, come and sit on this log here by the fire and start to compose your reply. Excitement, great excitement indeed! '

                                         Moira Amey
                                                2nd December 2012.