I needed to stall the Ten Crows Sect’s men. I asked the Golden Water River for leave to shape a water-hound from its substance, and in return I’d offer my candy dog figurine as tribute. It was pleased, and it pulled the caramel into deeper currents while granting me dominion over a vat’s worth of sugar-tinged riverwater.

I haul my basket over to the stand of flowers that look like ladies’ lacy handkerchiefs.  While I’m digging in the soil with my trowel, sure enough, Picket hops over in the funny way Rabbits do and stares at me through the fence.  His ears have perked up again, and I can see him smiling out of the corner of my eye.  Insults and scoldings never keep them down for long.