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Heather was falling. She scrabbled at the stone, but there was nothing to hold onto, and the slope grew steeper each moment.

Darkness. The feeling of slipping off the edge. A laugh.

Heather gasped. She sat up in bed, heart racing. The disorientation from her dream lasted as she realized she had no idea where she was. Then it was past, her heartbeat slowing as her memory returned. She was at Cloud Mountain, the refuge she and Picket had arrived at last evening.

Heather took a deep breath, remembering waking from nightmares at home. Her father had always been there to whisper stories until she went back to sleep. She clutched the quilt on her bed tighter, wishing he was there.

She knew where she was now, but the unease from her dream lingered. Maybe it was that Heather wasn't used to a bedroom this dark; in Nick Hollow her treehouse room had large windows that let in the light of the moon and stars.

Maybe getting a drink of water would help her calm down. She got out of bed, wincing as her feet touched the chilly floor, and pulled off the quilt to tie around her shoulders.

Yawning, Heather opened the door, letting in a shaft of dim light, and closed it gently, trying not to wake Picket. Emma had pointed out a water room last night, but Heather didn’t remember exactly where. There was faint light coming from the direction of the Savory Den, so she walked that way.

At the door, she found a branching hall filled with silvery light. Feeling strangely clear-headed, Heather turned into it and walked toward the end, where, surrounded by dark hall openings, there was a flight of stairs flooded with light. Heather couldn’t see where they ended; it was as if the steps led directly to the moon.

“There was a place where rabbits called themselves Heralds,” she whispered. “For each night, they ascended to gather wisdom from the moon and stars.”

She laughed softly at her own imaginings, then kept standing, listening to water trickling in the walls and gazing at the sight right out of one of Father’s stories. A strange, restless joy began to grow inside her. What would happen if she climbed the stairs? What was up there, what mysteries were there to uncover? The risk of being caught only made her heart beat faster.

Heather shook her head. What has gotten into me tonight? She followed the sound of flowing water into a shadowy side room, where water flowed into a basin and drained away, carried by channels cut into the stone of the wall. She knelt and used her hands to drink, then splashed water on her face. Gasping at the cold, she stood and stretched, then froze.

There were footsteps coming down the stairs. Realistically, there was nothing to fear from a lone rabbit up for water or a bathroom trip, but in the dark the unexpected sound made her shiver. Heather peeked from the shadows, seeing a lone rabbit reach the base of the stairs and stop. He was dressed in a flowing, hooded cloak, illuminated from behind by moonlight.

She remained frozen, heart pounding, as the rabbit looked around the hall, face shadowed. As he turned into a passage, there was a flare of golden candlelight, silhouetting the rabbit, and then it was receding.

It was like Heather’s imaginings had come true, like the beginning of one of Father’s stories about a mysterious adventure. The restless excitement rose again, urging her to follow.

Heather ran. She clutched the quilt around her shoulders as it fluttered like a cape; her feet pattered on the stone. He was too far ahead and moving too quickly to notice. The light swung right into a side passage, then left, then right again, casting flashes of light on the carved walls blurring past. It was thrilling, confusing, dreamlike. She was rapidly losing track of their path.

The light disappeared suddenly. Heather skidded to a stop, realizing she’d taken the wrong path at a forking intersection. She made it back to the turning point in time to see the light fade out completely. She was alone in the dark, deep in the tunnels of Cloud Mountain.

“Once upon a time, a doe chased a light. She ran, on and on, until she was lost in the dark. The light was gone, but she held onto hope that it would come back.”

Heather frowned, murmuring the last line over to herself. She sat huddled against a stone wall in a hall that opened out of the runner’s path. When he came back, she would see his light, but he wouldn’t see her.

“The doe waited and waited, and finally it did, and she followed the light back home!” Heather finished her little story, smiling to herself. The smile faded as she remembered that she no longer had a home to return to. She sighed, tugging the quilt closer around herself to block the chill of the stone, and ran her fingers over the neat stitching.

It comforted her, telling these simple stories to herself like she would have to baby Jacks. And then he would laugh, and Mother would smile, and Father would hug her close. Heather smiled again, closing her eyes to relive the warm memories.

Falling, faster and faster.

She woke with a jolt of panic. Had she missed the runner? She couldn’t have. Heather resumed her vigil, staring into the darkness. She’d been so foolish. Why had she let herself take such an impulsive action?

Her eyes were slipping closed again. Suddenly, she sat upright. Was that—yes, the light was returning! As the runner approached, it became brighter, until Heather had to cover her unadjusted eyes. She squinted through her fingers, seeing him pass: a buck, hood down now, tugging distractedly at his ears.

As Heather slipped into the passage to follow, she felt a strange twinge of disappointment, quickly replaced by relief. She walked silently, following the glow through the turns in the path until, sooner than she expected, they’d returned to the moonlit steps. Heather paused at the entrance to be sure she remained hidden, but the footsteps on the stairs were fading into the quiet burbling of water.

The buck and his golden candlelight were gone, replaced by shades of gray. Thinking sleepy, muddled thoughts of light and shadow and a foolish chase down ancient halls, Heather went back to bed.

A/N: The beginning of my first posted multi-chapter fanfic, woo! I'll be updating weekly and also posting on AO3. If you spot any typos or inconsistencies with canon, please give feedback!

What do you think? How will Heather's strange experience affect the plot? Who is the mysterious stranger wandering the halls of Cloud Mountain?

Up next week: Heather oversleeps and Picket is annoyed! Also the arrival of Emma!