Morning dew wore through my slippers, numbing my toes. Mother had not taken time to put on my leather overshoes when she dragged me from my bed, threw on my clothes, and rushed me to the meadow before dawn so Father would not notice our departure.Though I followed the line of her finger as she pointed toward the hillside, nothing came into view; a gray mist clung over the fields. "No, mamma, I cannot."Mother's tresses dangled around her ermine-lined mantle as she knelt next to me, her skirts soiling in the moist grass as she slunk down to my height. I took comfort in the fact that the strands of her hair matched my own in color—brown, like the lighter shades of bark."Close your eyes little one, and think of nothing.""But—""Quiet, child, and count to ten. Then open your eyes and tell me what you see."I obeyed, counting to myself. When I reached ten, I opened my eyes and focused on the hillside. "Oh!" A squeal escaped me. "I see him!"Emerging from the haze, an enormous white hart lifted his head and turned toward us.
