Elara closed her eyes. She let go of her questions— Where am I? How does this work? —and simply was . When she opened her eyes, the entire herd had gathered around her, their fluffy bodies pressing against her knees, their hums merging into a single, peaceful chord.
She stepped through.
The Guide wasn't written in any language Elara recognized, but the illustrations were clear. They showed a ladder made of woven wind, a gate shaped like a harp, and—most strangely—a herd of creatures that looked like sheep, but with bodies of dense, fluffy cloud and legs of solidified rainbow. cloud meadow guide
The old leather-bound book had no title on the spine, just a faded smudge where gold leaf used to be. Inside, the first page simply read: The Cloud Meadow Guide. Elara closed her eyes
Cloud sheep who eat too much starlight become thunderheads. They grow grumpy and leak static. To calm them, sing a low, steady note—the frequency of a sleeping volcano. —and simply was
To move a flock, use your ‘net of silence.’ It is not a physical object. It is the quiet you carry inside you. Think of nothing. Be still. The sheep will follow your emptiness, hoping to fill it.
The mirror-ground began to ripple. The sky above turned the colour of a bruise. The gate, her grandmother’s gate, was shrinking.