Jhamak and Bhiru and the Lighthouse

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The Valley of Whispering Lanterns glows at dusk like a bowl of fireflies. Every light is a dream finding its way home. You can hear the lanterns hum when the wind is still.

You are Jhamak, a small cloud-fox with fur the color of twilight. Your paws make no sound on the mossy path. The air smells of rain that hasn’t fallen yet. Above you, lanterns drift like slow stars, each one carrying a sleepy traveler back to their bed.

JHAMAK: "Bhiru, look—one lantern is flickering." BHIRU: "It’s lost, little fox. Not ready to go home."

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