You chose the Miniature Thumb Piano

I play the tune of Clair de Lune, accompanied by nonsense words made up on the spot. Unfortunately, the velociworms are not the ONLY things lulled to sleep by my performance. I find myself drifting, my eyelids getting heavy, my limbs heavier, until a dreamless sleep descends. 

I awaken to the gurgles of Murmuring Murmles and the gaze of curious Trees. It slowly sinks in that I am in a Driftwood.  Driftwoods are remnants of the floating cloud-forests, and the fact I am in one means I am close to The Other Side of Moonlight. The Murmuring Murmles are impressed by my ability to lull an entire clew of velociworms to sleep with nothing but a thumb piano and words, and even more impressed that I chose not to destroy the worms. So they convinced the driftwoods to scoop me up and keep me safe while I slept. 

“Karma is currency in this place,” the Murmles tell me. “Never underestimate the power of a compassionate heart.”

“Do you know the way to Theosom?” I ask.

 
Not only do the Murmles know, but they are heading that way themselves, and they agree to give me a lift for a song. But this time? I choose a more lively tune because I don’t want to fall asleep again and miss my first glimpses of Theosom.

As I float among the bioluminescent flecks of living stardust, I feel the soft flutter of feathered wings in flight below, and above, the gentle tug of a silver-skinned moon. I find myself wondering: Are the Moths carrying the Trees, or are the Trees carrying the Moths, to which they reply “We carry each other.”