Lia's eyes stay closed as she reaches. She tries to feel the words, feel what they are running across. Plants, dormant, she thinks. They feel like nothing. Snow and the ground. It might not work, all things considered.

Then she feels a flicker of motion. Something different from the ground and the plants. She stands and follows the trail of words, through the trees to a hollowed out area under some roots.

There she finds a little rabbit. She picks it up without thinking, stopping again to collect a different bird before returning to the fire.