BOOOOONG!

At the back of the hall, the gorilla lowered the mallet with great ceremony. He had been given gong duty—and proved to be quite excellent at timekeeping.

Smudge clapped his hands. “Hurrah! Lunchtime! Lessons pause—sandwiches commence!”

The animals cheered and poured outside into the sunshine. Out came baskets of fruit, leafy greens, nuts and more bananas than the monkeys knew what to do with.

Even the tiger behaved himself, announcing kindly, “I’ll be vegan for the day.” He promptly sank his teeth into a melon with a growl of surprising delight.

The mouse was not taking any chances—with Whiskers or the tiger. Perching safely on the hippo’s head seemed like the best option.

Lunchtime at Mandala School was every bit as noisy and colourful as the lessons themselves.

As bellies filled and chatter softened, a gentle hush settled over the clearing.

“What if we made a mandala right now?” the flamingo suggested, her long neck curving like a question mark.

The animals glanced at one another, eyes bright with curiosity. Heads nodded. Tails flicked. Wings rustled.

So they did.

The elephant stepped forward first, planting himself at the very centre—enormous, steady, a living pillar. Around him sat the hippo, tiger and crocodile, forming a solid middle ring. The butterflies drifted into the next circle, joined by more mice and frogs. Along the outer edge, birds settled—followed by yet more butterflies—until the whole assembly spun into one vast ring of colour and motion.

From above, it was a living mandala: feathers, fur, scales and smiles arranged in perfect symmetry.

Smudge stood back, eyes shining. “Marvellous,” he whispered. “A mandala made not with pencils, but with paws and claws.”

For a long moment, no one moved. The living mandala seemed too perfect to break. But break it must. There was more work to be done.