82

That evening, Les lay awake in bed, unable to let her mind settle after the events of the past few days. In just a short while, her boring, forgettable life had been inundated with things she had never before fathomed. She'd met a talking mouse, a strange cavern was at the end of a peculiar pathway leading from her bedroom. She'd met a talking fox, who'd taken her to meet an order of peoples who thought she was some sort of savior, and there was a reason she hadn't been given a name. Then there was the fact that no one she'd run into, during the remainder of her day had noticed her absence. Which wasn't a great surprise, she reasoned.

For hours on end, she lay there staring up at the ceiling thinking about it all. Always coming back to the boy she'd seen in the cavern, or whatever it was. It was then that she noticed the music. It was so soft and faint she may not have noticed it, had she not been thinking about his dancing. At first she thought she'd made it up to go with the memory of seeing him. But then she focused more on the sound, and less on her memory. It seemed to be coming from behind her wardrobe.