The wind in the leaves and the muffled burgeling from inside the big
bean the only soundings to be heard.
The wind picked up and the burgeling loudened.
Just then, arrows of warm orangey glow crawled out from the bean.
One touching each - and engulfing them.
Then they were slowly souped from their places ...
... drawn into that bean
... drawn away to a place of dreams, from the heart of that forestto someplace not there. To a place not anywhere.
To a place of dreams.