Chapter Text
The afternoon sun was doing that magical thing where it turns a regular backyard into something out of a dream, painting the grass in shades of emerald and gold.
Little Jacob was right in the thick of it, sat cross-legged in the dirt, completely lost in his own miniature world.
He’s one of those kids who finds a whole universe in the crawl of an ant or the smell of damp earth—the kind of curiosity we usually lose as we grow up.
His older sister was nearby on the porch, nursing a well-loved book, but she couldn't help but watch him.
She noticed how the light hit his dark hair, and looking at her own braid, she realized it wasn't just "black."
It was full of secret colors—mahogany and midnight blue—like a hidden tapestry.
The peace broke when the phone rang inside. She stood up, told "Jakey" to stay put, and disappeared behind the squeaky screen door.
Left alone, Jacob caught a flicker of movement.
A little rabbit had hopped out from the bushes to nibble on some clover.
Most kids would have chased it, but Jacob just watched, breathless and wondering. He wanted to know what the world felt like through that rabbit’s eyes.
And then, something impossible happened.
A warm hum started vibrating through his veins. In a heartbeat, Jacob’s world shifted. He shrank, his ears stretched long, and soft fur sprouted where skin used to be. He stepped right out of his shirt, leaving it in a heap on the grass, and took his first powerful hop as a little black rabbit.
He joined his new friend in the clover, and suddenly, the world was a symphony. He could hear the tiny rustle of insects and the distant trill of birds with a clarity he’d never known. He took a bite of clover, and the only word for it was sweet.
When the screen door creaked again, the wild rabbit bolted for the bushes, and Jacob—as a tiny black blur—was right on its heels.
His sister stepped back out, her voice tight with that instant spike of "big sister" panic when she realized the yard was empty. "Jacob?"
Just as the worry started to really take hold, the bushes parted. Jacob tumbled back onto the grass, human again, naked and absolutely doubled over with the kind of pure, bright laughter only a child can manage.
She let out a massive sigh of relief, rolling her eyes in that way sisters do when they're stuck between being annoyed and just glad you're okay. "You’d better put your clothes back on," she huffed, trying to sound stern. "Dad's going to be home any minute."