In the deepest part of the Whispering Woods, where moonlight pools between ancient roots, a silver berry hung low and heavy.
Mira reached for it. A voice whispered from the bracken. From behind a toadstool, a fox no bigger than her hand stepped forward — its fur shimmering with tiny stars.
She cupped her hands over the glowing moss patch. 'Please shine,' she whispered. But the moss dimmed to grey. A chill wind rustled the ferns.
The tiny fox batted her hand away gently. 'You have to mean it,' it said, its voice like wind chimes.
Mira backed into a hollow tree. The fox's starlight flickered and died. Its golden eyes met hers. 'The darkness isn't outside,' it said.
She looked down. Her shadow peeled away from her feet, rising like smoke. Then it folded around the fox — and suddenly it blazed bright and huge.
The shadow-Mira pressed a glowing seed into her palm. 'Plant it,' the shadow whispered.
Mira knelt. The dirt was cold under her knees. She pressed the seed into the heart-light patch where the moss had once glowed.
The seed erupted. Towers of chiming flowers spiraled upward — each petal ringing like glass bells in the night air.
The forest sighed. Grey moss turned green again. Mushrooms blazed with color. The wind stopped whispering and began to sing.
The starry fox leaped onto Mira's shoulder. It purred — a sound like distant bells. She smiled. 'I meant it,' she whispered.
And deep in the Whispering Woods, where silver berries hang low and moonlight pools between ancient roots, a little girl walked home with a star on her shoulder.