Daylight is here, and ZigZag can no longer take cover in the darkness. He used to know this forest so well, but he has been going in circles for days. The child’s laughter is not distant anymore, so ZigZag emerges from his hiding spot and runs. No matter how far he travels, the laughter always finds him.
ZigZag can barely catch his breath. I used to be a tree, he remembers. He stops running, plants his feet in the ground and reaches his arms to the sky. I can become a tree again, he thinks, but the child’s laughter is louder now. It is the only thing he hears.