Mirow stood at the edge of the dark forest. Every crackle made his ears twitch. Faris pressed a silver acorn into his paw. It hummed like a tiny bell.
Mirow swallowed hard and marched past the first gnarled root. He thought: I can do this. Faris's shadow stayed warm behind him all the way in.
Three towering roots blocked the path. Mirow climbed the first, squeezed through the second, and slid down the third — boing! He landed with a happy bounce.
Faris stepped over all three roots at once, then lifted Mirow higher. Glowing fireflies drifted between the ancient branches like floating stars.
A low growl rumbled ahead. A pair of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness. Mirow froze. His claws dug into the bark.
Faris stepped forward and trumpeted — but it came out as a bouncy silly squeak. The glowing eyes blinked, then burst into giggles. A family of owls hooted from their hollow.
The silver acorn flared brighter and brighter. Warm golden light flooded the whole forest — tiny mushroom lanterns glowed, dewdrops sparkled, and dozens of animal faces smiled.
Mirow's whiskers stopped trembling. He reached up and patted Faris's trunk. Faris rumbled a happy sound that shook the leaves like confetti.
