When the candle was lit, the brook got quieter, the way brooks do when they think someone is listening. Saelion curled up on the far stone with all five arms tucked in and one wing over her nose.
The nougats in the jar settled with a small sound, like a sigh in a sweet shop. Somewhere upstream a frog was practising one note, and getting it wrong in the same place every time.
“Tomorrow,” said Saelion, to nobody in particular, “I will be a bunny for the whole morning.” Then she fell asleep, and the candle kept the rest of the story for her.