The world's just begun to turn to spring, but Wonderland doesn't do things by half-measures. It never did. When the season they change, they simply shift, the world going from the thick white carpet of snow to the warming rays of sunlight.

Perfect weather for a game of catch. Among other things.

They've a basket of bulbs in hand as they meander contentedly along, humming one of the latest songs they've been learning. Their fingers tap unconsciously along the basket's rim, inadvertently aping the adjustments they would be making on the frets.

The sound of someone snuffling among the bushes draws their eye, and it doesn't take very long at all to figure the source of the noise; white fur tends to stand out against the green.

They kneel down slowly, breath catching in their throat.

Hardly daring to hope.

"Asriel?"