Once, when the world was much younger, when rivers meandered merrily through dew laden meadows, and the air was cuttingly cold and fragrant; on a crisp new morning, a little girl peered hesitatingly into the hazy, uncertain horizon. Eyes intent, her young face too solemn, she tried hard to catch a glimpse of the future.
A tiny leaf fell. And the spell was broken.
She clutched her toy rabbit, grey with use but much loved, and walked slowly back to her house, nestling against the wooded slopes of a gentle hillock.
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