That night, Pigúiça's sleep had not come yet. Her thoughts were hopping around like little birds in a tree, and they wouldn't stay still, not for a single second. The night on Dogavios was gentle: the clouds were yawning and the flowers had already folded their petals.
“Come with me,” said Fofuxo, softly. They went to a clearing where the stars hung from the branches, very close, like tiny lanterns. “Let's count. But slowly. One star for each breath.”
The two of them lay down on the soft grass, tummies up. You can lie down like this too, very still, and come along.
Ten. The first star is the biggest, nice and white, right overhead. Breathe in, slowly, through your nose. Breathe out, very gently. See how it shines, without any effort. Your front paws go soft, soft, like cotton.
Nine. Breathe in. Breathe out. Your back paws go soft too, heavy, sinking into the grass.
Eight. Breathe in. Breathe out. Your tummy rises and falls, rises and falls, like a little wave on a calm lake.
Seven. Breathe in. Breathe out. Your shoulders drop, far from your ears, as if someone had taken a backpack off them.
Six. Breathe in. Breathe out. Your ears grow quiet. They listen only to the wind, very softly.
Five. Breathe in. Breathe out. Your snout relaxes. Your mouth opens just a little, loose and lazy.
Four. Breathe in. Breathe out. Your cheeks go soft. Almost a smile, without meaning to.
Three. Breathe in. Breathe out. Your eyes grow heavy, heavy, like two little pebbles sinking slowly in a river.
Two. Breathe in. Breathe out. Your thoughts, which were hopping, drift by like clouds, far, far away, and you don't need to follow them.
One. The last star is small and warm. Breathe in. Breathe out. And sleep, which was on its way, has finally arrived and lain down beside you, very quietly.
Pigúiça felt her whole body heavy and warm, like a stone that had spent the day in the sun. Every little part of her had been counted, hugged, and put to rest. There was nothing left to do. Nothing to figure out. Nothing to remember. Just to stay there, breathing, quiet, with the whole sky above her, like a blanket of tiny lights.
Pigúiça wasn't counting anymore. Neither was Fofuxo. The stars kept shining, slowly, slowly, just to watch over their sleep.
And now it's your turn to count. Ten. Breathe in. Breathe out. Nine...
