Snow White spun round and round in her big pink gown. Her shoes scuffed the marble in lazy circles beneath the swinging chandelier.
THUMP, THUMP, THUMP—three tiny paws tapped the stained-glass window. Snow White froze. Three round faces pressed flat against the glass, blinking in.
She yanked open the great doors. The hedgehog waddled in, the squirrel scampered across the tile, and the wren fluttered to her shoulder.
She dumped the whole jar of honey-drizzled candies on the long table, then patted the bench three times. "Here! Here! Here!" The little guests stared up at the chandelier dripping crystal light onto the sweets.
The squirrel snatched a gummy bear, scrambled up the chandelier's pole, and swung—CRASH. A crystal shard pinged off onto the marble.
All four of them froze. Then the wren cackled, and the shriek bounced off the stained-glass walls until nobody could stop laughing.
The hedgehog yawned a long, round yawn. The squirrel's ears flopped onto Snow White's knee, and the wren tucked itself into her sleeve.
She folded the napkin into a little blanket and draped it over the three tiny sleepers. The chandelier burned lower, painting everyone in slow gold.
She threaded her fingers through the hedgehog's soft spines and hummed. The wren's tiny heartbeat ticked through the cotton of her sleeve.
Three small breathing mounds sat under the napkin. Her pink gown was wrinkled and sticky with honey. She hummed louder, and the chandelier swayed in time.