"He remembers"

The brilliance of the Freya constellation bathed the world below, the stars that aligned to form the constellation twinkling in the dark abyss of the night. Its radiance, even though inferior to that of the sun, provided luminance to the night, enough to create shadows of opaque objects.

Under the shadow of a canopy of trees stood a jackalope, surrounded by many of its kin. "This is the last batch. This should be enough to stirr up some dust," the jackalope in the middle spoke—a rarity, as only divine creatures could speak, and it was clearly not one.

A few miles from the forest the jackalopes stayed in, rested a town, most if not all the residents resting their tired bodies after the day's activities. But in one of the inns, one person had begun to stare awake.

...

"Good morning, sleepyhead..." Bel greeted Ossa, her crimson eyes welling up with tears.