The early morning sunlight sprinkled on the grassland which was covered with colorful flowers like gold. Right beside the grassland, there was a crystal clear brook slowly flowing down from the mountain. The pebbles in the brook sparkled like gems under the sunlight.
A black ant was washed down from the mountain by a stream. It was struggling desperately in the stream. To the tiny ant, this slow stream was like a rushing river, sweeping up the ant that had fallen into it. It was like sweeping up an insignificant speck of dust, rushing towards an unknown and terrifying fate.
Just as the ant was bobbing up and down in the stream, a small branch suddenly reached into the stream from the side. The struggling ant immediately grabbed the branch in the stream and lay on it tightly, stabilizing its body.
