The baby was delicate, like a little pottery set. Tiny flowers painted and swooping engravings on the sides. She shined like the sun against the river, reflecting bold blues and orange.

Her tiny legs stumbled through the forest. She was like a crystal in a dark cave. She was starting to learn how to run alongside the rabbits with their shimmering, glossy fur. They were the teaching her how to jump on the wobbly stillts that held her upright.

The mothers watched from a patch of flowers nearby, the group beaming at the sun. Spring in the forest, when times were redone.