Thimble pushed through the tall ferns. He stopped at the edge of the village. A little lantern sat on the moss, glowing softly.
Thimble reached out with both paws. He lifted the lantern. The glow steadied for just one second, then dimmed again.
He carried the lantern toward the path. The light dimmed with every step. Near an oak tree, he heard a tiny sneeze.
A shivering squirrel curled in a nest, tail wrapped tight. Thimble held the lantern up. The nest glowed amber, and the squirrel blinked slowly.
Thimble kept walking. The lantern dimmed again, so he lifted it higher. He spotted a rabbit half-buried in pine needles near the bridge.
He cupped the lantern close. The rabbit uncurled one paw, then the other, and let out a long sleepy sigh. The lantern pulsed brighter.
Thimble walked into the village square. The lantern was barely glowing at his paws. He held it as high as he could reach.
The light BURST outward in a warm golden wave. It flooded every cottage window, every mushroom lamp, every tree branch.
The whole village was glowing. Soft amber light spilled from every doorway. The mushroom lamps blinked awake one by one.
Thimble sat down at the base of the lantern post. He wrapped his tail around his paws. The warm light settled over him like a blanket.
From the windows, little shapes waved. Thimble waved back. He smiled.
The village glowed softly in the twilight. Thimble closed his eyes, safe and warm.