Turtle’s heart was racing. His voice was very tiny when he finally managed to say something. “Koala?” He tried to kneel, but he had no knees on his flippers, and that made it very hard. In the end, he shuffled into a position that might look a little like he was on one knee if Koala squinted.
Koala turned around—she had been busy looking at pretty flowers and the colorful insects inhabiting them—, and tilted her head. “What is it, Turtle?”, she said in her most chipper voice. The sun was shining on her back gently and the grass was soft and lush, and Turtle was here with her.
“Would you…”, Turtle averted her gaze. If turtles could blush, he’d have turned crimson. He was silent for a minute. Eventually he managed to mumble a single syllable: “wudumarimi?”
Koala scratched her head. “What did you say, Turtle?”
Turtle breathed in deeply, then he got a little something from his shell. It was a tiny green ring, weaved from the sturdiest eucalyptus leave he could find. His lack of fingers didn’t make weaving an easy task, and it had taken him many mornings to get it just right.
“Would you marry me?”, he said. Koala’s eyes immediately filled with water. She sobbed and sniffled, she cried and whimpered, but finally she dried her furry face and said: “Yes, Turtle, yes of course.”
Turtle helped her put the ring on one of her paws. She nibbled on it a bit. Then she put her hand into Turtle’s flipper and said: “I promise I won’t ever eat this ring, no matter how hungry I am.” And Turtle just smiled and nuzzled her paw and she knew that she would love this reptile for a very long time.