They believe the young bunny has the innate ability to narrate stories. He was only a friend to Mira, but he understood her need for excitement better than anybody else. Larkwood's way of life was characterized by the natural world's soothing rhythms and the happiness of children playing in the fields. Still, Mira felt a persistent itch, a sensation that the universe was tugging at her, hinting at a reality much more expansive, strange, and wondrous than anything she'd known. Every night, she'd settle by her window, gazing at the stars, lost in thought about what lay beyond.

Mira, despite her parents' affection and understanding, felt otherwise. They assured her that adventure was readily available, only a stone's throw away. She sensed the world was full of secrets, just waiting for her to uncover them. The moment arrived on a brisk morning, just after the first hints of autumn color had begun to show. A soft, flickering glow, just visible behind a mass of intertwined roots, drew Mira's gaze as she walked the forest's perimeter.

At first, she thought it might be a play of light, a trick of the sun. But the sun hadn't even peeked over the horizon, and the sky remained shrouded in the early morning's obscurity. Pip, as if drawn by an unseen force, sniffed the air and moved in. Mira knelt, pushing the loose earth away. Beneath, a little stone emerged, its surface etched with swirling designs that caught the light, shimmering like captured moonbeams. The air rippled at her fingertips, and a soft, almost musical sound, like a far-off choir, brushed against her eardrums. Pip, both startled and intrigued by the peculiar sight, hurried after her.