Twobble

Twobble is a slow, cheerful snail who has loved the number two for as long as he can remember. Two spots, two dice showing one each, snake eyes — that's Twobble's favourite roll in all the meadow. So every day he plants himself, proud as can be, right beside the patch marked 2.

The trouble is, the two patch is nearly always the smallest patch in the meadow. And Twobble knows exactly why.

"Two can only be made one way," he explained to Petal, not sad about it at all. "To roll a two, you need a 1 on this die and a 1 on that die. That's the only way. 1 and 1. There's no other. So the dice hardly ever make it." He gazed fondly at his little patch with its one small flower. "Seven has six ways. Two has one. So my patch grows slow, and Lucky's grows fast. That's just how the dice work."

Petal tilted her head. "Doesn't that make you sad, Twobble? Waiting and waiting?"

"Not a bit!" said Twobble brightly. "It makes the two special. When it finally comes — when both dice show a single little dot — oh, I cheer! Because I know how rare it is. A whole meadow of rolls might go by, and then — two! One and one! My number at last!" He wiggled his shell with joy. "The rare ones are worth the wait. And I always know why I'm waiting: two has only one way to be made, so it blooms seldom. That's not bad luck. That's just how many ways there are."

And that very afternoon, after a long, long string of sevens and fives and eights, the two dice both landed on a single dot — two! — and Twobble cheered so loudly the whole meadow turned to look, and everyone was glad for him.