I’ve always bounced through life like it was one big trampoline. Up, down, sideways—I never needed anyone to keep me going. But today, the Hundred Acre Wood feels… still. Too still. Rabbit’s busy with his pulleys, Pooh’s stuck in a honey pot (again), and even Eeyore’s got a boulder to move. I just wanted someone to bounce with. Instead, I broke things. Again.

Roo was the only one who didn’t scold me. He looked up and asked, 'Don’t you have a family, Tigger?' Family. The word hit me like a snowball to the chest. I laughed it off—'Tiggers are the only ones of their kind!'—but that night, I stared at my reflection. Stripes and all. Am I really the only one?

Now I’m standing at the edge of the wood, a letter in paw. Roo said if I let the wind carry it, my real family might find me. I don’t know if they’ll answer. I don’t even know what I’ll do if they do. But I can’t stay here feeling like a mistake.

The wind picks up. I let go. The paper flutters, then soars. Somewhere out there, there’s got to be another Tigger. There’s got to be.