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Tag: calming bedtime stories

  • How Leo Talked to the Wind Wolves – The Adventure of a Boy Who Listened to the Sky

    How Leo Talked to the Wind Wolves – The Adventure of a Boy Who Listened to the Sky

    High in the Cloudspire Mountains, where the peaks touched the sky and the wind danced through pine trees like music, lived a quiet boy named Leo. He loved the wind, it seemed to carry secrets. Sometimes, it even whispered his name.

    One blustery afternoon, as he sat alone near the edge of a cliff, he heard something unusual: not just the wind howling, but voices, soft, wild, and echoing.

    “Run with us…” the wind whispered. “Follow the sky…” Leo stood up, heart racing. He saw shapes swirling in the mist, silver tails, glowing eyes, and paws that barely touched the ground.

    “Wind wolves,” he gasped.

    His grandmother had told him bedtime stories of these mythical creatures, wolves made of mist and starlight who could only be seen by those who truly listened to the wind.

    The Leap of Trust

    The largest wolf, with eyes like moonlight, stepped forward.

    “You hear us, Leo,” it said, its voice a breeze that rustled the grass. “Will you run with us?”

    Leo hesitated. The wind tugged at his jacket like an invitation. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. With a howl, the wolves began to run, not on the ground, but above it, gliding on streams of air. Leo felt his feet lift as the wind carried him too, as light as a feather.

    They soared over forests, skimmed mountain tops, and leapt through clouds.

    “Why have you come to me?” Leo asked.

    “Because the balance is shifting,” said the silver wolf. “A storm of shadows is coming, and only a wind listener can stop it.”

    The Storm Below

    As they flew, dark clouds rolled over the land. Trees bent. Rivers churned. Shadows twisted like smoke across the valley.

    “It’s the Hollow Wind,” the wolves warned. “A force that steals sound and silence alike. If it spreads, the wind will vanish forever.”

    Leo knew what he had to do. “How can I help?”

    “You must sing the Sky Song,” the wolves said. “But it can only be sung by one who has ridden the wind and listened with their heart.”

    The wolves taught Leo the notes—long, low hums that echoed like the wind through canyons. As he sang, his voice grew louder, braver, brighter.

    The Hollow Wind screamed and fought back, but Leo stood firm. The wind wolves howled in harmony, their voices wrapping around him like a shield.

    With one final note, the storm shattered into mist, and light poured through the sky.

    The Boy Who Rode the Wind

    When the skies cleared, the wolves landed on a quiet hill, golden sunlight sparkling through their fur.

    “You were chosen for a reason, Leo,” the silver wolf said. “You listened, and you believed.”

    Leo hugged the wolf, feeling its warm breath swirl around him like a breeze.

    Then, like smoke in sunlight, the wolves vanished, leaving behind only pawprints in the grass and the echo of a gentle howl.

    Back in his village, the wind blew stronger and sweeter. Birds sang again. And though the villagers never saw the wolves, they noticed that when Leo stood in the breeze and closed his eyes, he seemed to hear things no one else could.

    From that day on, he was known as Leo the Wind Listener, the boy who rode the skies—and saved the song of the world

    The End !

  • Jungle Secrets with Jaya and the Jaguar – How a Girl and Her Feline Friend Rescued Her Brother in the Amazon

    Jungle Secrets with Jaya and the Jaguar – How a Girl and Her Feline Friend Rescued Her Brother in the Amazon

    Deep in the heart of the Amazon rainforest, where parrots sing and the air smells like wild orchids, a brave girl named Jaya lived with her family in a small research camp. Her older brother, Kiran, loved exploring the jungle trails, but one morning, he didn’t return from his usual hike.

    “He knows the jungle better than anyone,” Jaya said, worried. “Something must have gone wrong.”

    While the adults searched near the river, Jaya grabbed her backpack, compass, and her slingshot. Just as she stepped into the dense green maze, she heard a soft rustling, and out from behind a tree stepped a sleek jaguar with golden eyes.

    “You again,” Jaya whispered with a smile. It was the same jaguar she had seen before, always watching curiously but never threatening. “Can you help me find my brother?” The jaguar blinked slowly and padded ahead, leading her into the wild.

    Tracks in the Mud

    Following the jaguar’s quiet steps, Jaya noticed signs: broken vines, a dropped water bottle, and a piece of Kiran’s red scarf tangled in the branches.

    “He came this way,” she whispered.

    Suddenly, they heard a low growl, not from her jaguar friend, but from deeper within the trees. A group of howler monkeys scattered, warning of danger. Jaya crouched behind a log as a jaguar-sized shadow moved through the underbrush. But her companion stood firm, growling back with a protective snarl.

    After a tense moment, the shadow disappeared. “You scared it off,” Jaya said in awe. “Thank you.”

    They pushed on, crossing a wobbly log bridge and ducking under giant leaves until they reached a clearing where the ground was torn and muddy. Then she saw it, Kiran’s boot prints leading toward a hidden cave.

    The Cave of Echoes

    Jaya and the jaguar stepped carefully into the dark cave. The air was cool, and the sounds of the jungle faded behind them. Drip. Drip. Every step echoed like thunder.

    “Kiran?” she called. A faint voice answered, “Jaya?”

    She ran deeper and found her brother sitting beside a wall of stone, his ankle wrapped in a torn shirt. “I fell,” he explained. “I couldn’t walk far, so I waited.” The jaguar nuzzled Kiran’s hand gently, as if to say, You’re safe now.

    Jaya shared her water and snacks, then used vines to make a stretcher. With her jungle friend’s help, they slowly guided Kiran back toward camp, using stars and moss-covered trees to find the way.

    Return of the Rainforest Heroes

    By sunrise, they reached the edge of the camp. Researchers and family ran to greet them, astonished at the sight: Jaya, her injured brother, and a calm jaguar beside them.

    “You led them home,” one of the scientists whispered, amazed.

    The jaguar gave one last look, then slipped back into the jungle without a sound.

    From that day on, stories spread across the Amazon about the brave girl and the guardian jaguar. Jaya had not only rescued her brother, she had uncovered one of the jungle’s most magical secrets.

    The End !

  • The Spider Who Wove Webby Blankets – How Silvie Gave Rest to the Tired and Small

    The Spider Who Wove Webby Blankets – How Silvie Gave Rest to the Tired and Small

    High in the corner of a quiet attic, where moonlight peeked through wooden beams, lived a tiny spider named Silvie.

    Silvie wasn’t like the spooky spiders in stories. She was gentle and shy, with silver legs as light as whispers and a heart full of kindness.

    While the world outside buzzed and rushed, Silvie took her time. She loved weaving more than anything, but not just ordinary webs. Silvie wove webby blankets, soft and shimmering, for those who needed a gentle place to rest. And when the stars blinked open and the house fell silent, Silvie got to work.

    Blankets for Sleepy Friends

    One night, a tired ladybug wandered into the attic. “I can’t find my way home,” she sighed.

    Silvie spun a blanket just for her, thin as air, soft as silk, and glowing like morning dew. The ladybug curled beneath it, yawned once, and fell fast asleep. Word spread slowly through the attic and garden below. A shivering moth, a baby mouse, even a sniffling beetle came looking for rest.

    Silvie didn’t mind. She wove each blanket with quiet care, adding tiny loops of moonlight and threads of sleepy thoughts. Each blanket was different, but they all brought the same feeling: safe, soft, and still.

    The Blanket Made of Stars

    One special night, Silvie noticed a tiny child’s toy, an old teddy bear missing one ear, left forgotten in the attic corner.

    She scurried over and gently touched his paw. “Even you might need a little comfort,” she whispered.

    And for him, she spun her finest webby blanket yet, threaded with specks of starlight, soft shadows, and memories of bedtime hugs.

    That night, a hush deeper than silence filled the attic. Silvie looked around at all the sleeping creatures tucked beneath her blankets and smiled. Even the wind paused, not wanting to wake the dreams.

    Wrapped in Webs and Wonder

    As the moon climbed higher, Silvie spun one last thread for herself, a tiny corner blanket, just big enough to rest her eight sleepy legs.

    She tucked herself in, curled gently, and closed her many eyes. Outside, the stars sparkled softly, and inside, everything was warm and still.

    So if you ever feel like you need a little extra comfort, just imagine a tiny spider named Silvie, weaving a silky soft webby blanket just for you, stitched with care and a touch of sleepy magic.

    Goodnight, little dreamer. May you always be wrapped in warmth, wonder, and the gentlest dreams.

    The End !

  • The Rabbit Who Built a Bed from Leaves – How Remy Found Peace in a Nest of Autumn Gold

    The Rabbit Who Built a Bed from Leaves – How Remy Found Peace in a Nest of Autumn Gold

    In the heart of a quiet forest, where the trees whispered secrets to the sky, lived a small gray rabbit named Remy. Remy was a thoughtful little bunny with soft ears, curious eyes, and a heart full of gentle ideas. As autumn rolled in and the winds turned cooler, the animals all began to settle into their warm, cozy dens.

    But Remy didn’t have a nest yet. Not the kind he wanted. “I don’t want just any bed,” he whispered to the trees. “I want a bed made of things the forest loves.” And so, with the wind carrying golden leaves all around him, Remy had an idea: he would build a bed from leaves.

    Gathering the Softest Pieces of the Forest

    Each evening, as the sky turned purple and the moon peeked over the hills, Remy would hop gently through the forest.

    He searched for the softest leaves, the ones that had drifted down like feathers. He chose golden oak leaves for warmth, scarlet maple leaves for color, and tiny silver birch leaves to make it all sparkle in the moonlight.

    Birds watched from branches, and squirrels chattered curiously.

    “Why not sleep in a burrow?” they asked. But Remy only smiled. “Because I want to dream in something I made with love.”

    A Bed Fit for a Gentle Dreamer

    By the third night, Remy had made a beautiful nest beneath a low branch, a circle of rustling leaves with a tiny mossy pillow and curled-up twigs at the edge. When he finally lay down, the leaves cradled him like a lullaby.

    Above him, the stars twinkled through the branches. The wind sang quietly in the trees. And Remy, feeling safe in the bed he built, let out a tiny yawn.

    His eyes fluttered closed, and he drifted into dreams of leaf boats on quiet rivers, of clouds shaped like carrots, and of dancing in sunlit meadows.

    Morning in the Leafy Nest

    As the sun rose, lighting the forest in gold, Remy slowly woke. A few leaves had blown gently onto his back, and he stretched with a happy sigh.

    All the forest felt quieter, softer, as if it had slept peacefully with him.

    And from that day on, whenever the wind rustled through the leaves at night, the animals would smile and think of the little rabbit who built his bed with love.

    So if you ever lie in bed and want to feel close to nature, just imagine Remy’s leafy nest, rustling softly beneath the stars. Goodnight, little dreamer. May your dreams be warm as leaves, and your sleep as quiet as the forest.

    The End !

  • The Giraffe Who Curled Up Like a Sock – How Luma Found Rest by Folding Into Herself

    The Giraffe Who Curled Up Like a Sock – How Luma Found Rest by Folding Into Herself

    In a golden savannah filled with acacia trees and whispering winds, lived a tall and gentle giraffe named Luma.

    Luma wasn’t just any giraffe, she was the tallest in her herd, with spots like golden cookies and eyelashes long enough to sweep the stars.

    Every day, Luma reached high into the treetops to munch the tastiest leaves and watched birds build nests above the clouds. She stretched so tall that even the sun seemed to give her a friendly nod. But when the day faded and the sky turned pink, Luma had a nighttime secret. Even the tallest giraffes need to curl up sometimes.

    The Cozy Curling Ritual

    The other animals would rest in nests, burrows, or cozy caves. But Luma had her own bedtime dance.

    First, she’d walk in a slow circle three times under her favorite tree. Then she’d bend her long legs gently, folding herself like a ribbon.

    And finally, with one big giraffe sigh, Luma would curl her long neck around herself, soft and snug, just like a rolled-up sock. The stars twinkled in amazement. “How can something so tall become something so small?” they whispered.

    And Luma would smile sleepily, because bedtime isn’t about being big or small, it’s about feeling safe, warm, and ready to dream.

    Dreaming in Loops and Spirals

    As she lay in her gentle curl, Luma’s dreams came in shapes, spirals of wind, loops of light, and cozy round clouds.

    In one dream, she twirled through the sky like a ribbon tossed by the wind. In another, she snoozed inside a giant teacup carried by butterflies, her neck coiled gently like steam.

    And sometimes, she dreamed of being a sock for a giant, soft, spotted, and hugging a gentle foot through a moonlit walk. Whatever the dream, Luma always felt wrapped in comfort and calm.

    Uncurling with the Morning Sun

    As the first light stretched across the horizon, Luma would slowly, gracefully uncurl herself. One leg, then another. Her long neck would rise like the sun, loop by loop, until she stood tall again, ready for a brand new day.

    The animals would blink awake and yawn.
    “Did you sleep well, Luma?” they’d ask. And she’d smile. “Like a sock in a drawer,” she’d say.

    So if you ever feel too small in a big world, or too big in a small bed, just remember the giraffe who curled up like a sock.

    No matter your size, there’s always a perfect way to rest. Goodnight, little one. Curl in close. Sleep soft and dream tall.

    The End !

  • The Hamster Who Dreamed in Tiny Movies – How Hugo’s Nightly Reels Helped a Room Fall Asleep in Wonder

    The Hamster Who Dreamed in Tiny Movies – How Hugo’s Nightly Reels Helped a Room Fall Asleep in Wonder

    In a cozy little house, nestled on a bookshelf in a child’s bedroom, lived a fluffy golden hamster named Hugo. Hugo was small, round, and full of gentle energy. He spent his days nibbling seeds, shuffling soft bedding, and spinning on his wheel.

    But when the stars came out and the room grew quiet, Hugo would curl up in his tiny nest and close his eyes for something very special. You see, Hugo didn’t just sleep, he dreamed in tiny movies.

    Not just flashes or fuzzy thoughts, but full, colorful adventures that played behind his eyelids like films in a theater just for him.

    The Popcorn-Sized Pictures

    Each night, when the moonlight touched the edge of his cage and the child snuggled deep beneath the blankets, Hugo’s dreams would begin.

    In one dream, he was a brave pirate sailing a peanut-shell ship across a sea of spilled milk. In another, he wore a tiny cape and flew through a city of talking toasters. Sometimes, his movies were slow and sweet, like rolling through a sunflower field in a matchbox car. Other times, they were silly and bright, with dancing carrots and moon-cheese mountains. And just like real movies, Hugo’s dreams always ended with a soft fade to black… and a happy sigh.

    A Theater of His Own

    Hugo’s dream movies were so vivid that even the stars seemed to blink slower when they watched from above. Sometimes the child in the room would stir in their sleep, as if they felt the warmth of Hugo’s little dreams drifting across the night.

    Though Hugo never made a sound, his dreams glowed gently around him, like little projectors casting light onto the dark. His whiskers twitched, his paws wiggled, and his tiny heart beat calmly to the rhythm of imaginary music only he could hear.

    The Night Ends, the Dreams Rest

    When the first morning light peeked through the curtains and the birds began to chirp, Hugo’s tiny movies came to an end. He’d stretch his little legs, give a sleepy squeak, and settle into the softest part of his nest.

    And though no one could see his magical movie reels, they left a little glow in the room, like kindness and imagination lingering in the air. So if you ever wonder where dreams go when they’re small, quiet, and kind… they might be spinning in circles, just like Hugo, the hamster who dreamed in tiny movies. Goodnight, little dreamer. Let your dreams roll softly, scene by scene.

    The End !

  • The Kingfisher Who Dipped Dreams in Water – How Kiko Helped Children Sleep with Moonlit Dream Ripples

    The Kingfisher Who Dipped Dreams in Water – How Kiko Helped Children Sleep with Moonlit Dream Ripples

    In a quiet corner of the world, where the river ran smooth like silk and the trees whispered lullabies, lived a small, shimmering kingfisher named Kiko.

    Kiko wasn’t like the other birds who sang bright songs in the morning. He preferred the quiet of evening, when the sky turned rosy and the stars tiptoed in. Every night, Kiko flew low above the water, wings brushing the breeze, carrying something invisible yet precious: children’s dreams.

    You see, Kiko had a gift, he dipped dreams in water to make them shine.

    Dreams That Needed Dipping

    Before children fell asleep, their dreams would flutter in the air, soft, glowing shapes full of ideas, wishes, and wonder. But sometimes, they were cloudy or tangled, not quite ready for dreaming.

    That’s when Kiko would glide in with the quietest whoosh, gather up the dreams, and carry them to the river. He would dip each one carefully, splash! into the cool, moonlit water.

    Some dreams came out sparkling with stars. Others shimmered with colors no one had ever seen. The water gave each dream a glow, a gentle flow, and a little hush, like a lullaby floating on a breeze.

    The Ripples of Sleep

    As Kiko worked, the river rippled softly, and the forest listened. Owls blinked slowly. Fireflies floated like sleepy lanterns. Even the frogs croaked in a quieter tune. And in homes all around, children began to sigh and turn under their blankets.

    The dipped dreams returned to their owners, drifting through windows, curling around pillows, and settling gently into sleepy minds.

    One child dreamed of flying whales that sang songs in the clouds. Another dreamed of walking through gardens made of starlight. Each dream was special, dipped in peace and ready to bloom.

    When the World is Quiet

    Once all the dreams had been dipped, Kiko rested on a smooth stone by the river. His feathers shimmered in the moonlight blues and greens like deep water. He watched the last dream drift across the surface like a paper boat and smiled.

    So if you ever wonder where your sweetest dreams come from, just remember the quiet wings of Kiko, the kingfisher who dips each dream in water, so it arrives soft, glowing, and ready to carry you far away. Goodnight, little dreamer. Let the river carry your thoughts to somewhere beautiful.

    The End !

  • The Monkey Who Swung Into Dream Branches – How Miko Found Dreams in the Sky and Shared Them with the Jungle

    The Monkey Who Swung Into Dream Branches – How Miko Found Dreams in the Sky and Shared Them with the Jungle

    A young monkey named Miko lived in a quiet jungle, where the leaves rustled like lullabies and the stars peeked through the treetops.

    Miko was energetic during the day, swinging from branch to branch, playing with butterflies, and racing the river breeze. But when night came and the world grew still, Miko had a little secret.

    He didn’t climb into a nest or lie on a branch like the other monkeys. Instead, every night, Miko swung into something truly magical, the Dream Branches. These branches didn’t grow on just any tree. They appeared only when the sky turned purple and the crickets began to sing.

    The Tree of Dreams

    As the moon rose, Miko would close his eyes, take a deep breath, and leap into the air, right toward a glowing vine that only he could see.

    Up and up he’d go, into the tallest part of the jungle, where the Dream Tree grew.

    Its branches sparkled like stardust and stretched into the clouds. Each one held a different dream, soft, colorful, and warm, like hammocks made from clouds and music.

    One night, he swung into a branch filled with flying kites that carried him across candy coloured skies. Another night, he landed in a dream of floating bananas that sang lullabies as they twirled. Miko never knew which dream branch he’d reach, but he always felt safe, peaceful, and free.

    A Gentle Journey to Sleep

    Sometimes, jungle animals watched Miko from below. “Where does he go each night?” the owl wondered aloud.
    “I think he’s dreaming while he swings,” whispered the tortoise. But Miko didn’t need to explain. He only smiled, curled up on his magical branch, and let the dreams carry him wherever his heart wished to go.

    And as the jungle hushed, the wind carried whispers of Miko’s dreams through the leaves, sharing bits of magic with every sleeping creature.

    Until the Morning Light

    When the first sunlight touched the treetops, the Dream Branches gently lowered Miko back down to his favorite resting spot, a soft patch of moss near a quiet stream. He’d yawn, stretch, and blink up at the morning sky, his dreams still fresh like morning dew.

    So, if you ever lie in bed and wonder where dreams come from, just imagine Miko swinging high into the stars, grabbing hold of a glowing dream branch just for you. Goodnight, little dreamer. May your dreams be soft, sweet, and swinging with magic.

    The End !

  • The Crow Who Told Bedtime Riddles – A Kids’ Tale About Kip and His Midnight Mind Games

    The Crow Who Told Bedtime Riddles – A Kids’ Tale About Kip and His Midnight Mind Games

    High above the sleepy town, on the steeple of a little clock tower, lived a clever black crow named Kip. His feathers shimmered in the moonlight, and his eyes twinkled like stars. But Kip wasn’t just any crow, he told bedtime riddles.

    Every evening, as the sky turned pink and windows glowed with lamplight, Kip would fly from rooftop to rooftop, whispering gentle riddles to children just before they fell asleep.

    He never shouted or cawed. He simply perched near open windows, speaking in a voice soft as a breeze. “Are your eyes getting heavy?” he’d ask. “Then try this one…”

    Riddles for Restful Minds

    Kip’s riddles weren’t tricky or loud. They were soft, dreamy puzzles meant to stir the imagination, just enough to slow busy thoughts and make little hearts smile.

    “I rise without a sound, and shine without a flame. I disappear at dawn. What’s my name?”
    A little girl whispered, “The moon…” and smiled as her eyelids drooped.

    “I have no feet, but I can dance. I make no sound, but I can sing. What am I?”
    A boy yawned, “The wind…” then tucked himself deeper under the covers. With every answer, Kip’s wings fluttered gently, pleased. It wasn’t about solving them all, it was about letting the thoughts drift, like clouds, toward dreamland.

    The Night the Riddles Ran Out

    One evening, Kip sat atop the baker’s chimney and paused. He had visited every window, told every riddle he knew, and now the stars twinkled with contentment. But something was missing.

    Then he heard a whisper, soft and sleepy, from the smallest house on the hill.

    “Do you have… one more?” asked a child who hadn’t quite fallen asleep. Kip blinked. He didn’t have one more. But he looked at the stars and smiled.

    “Here’s a special one,” he said, making it up right then and there:
    “What travels far but never moves, glows but never burns, and watches over your dreams?” The child thought and thought… and slowly whispered, “The stars.”
    And then, at last, her breathing slowed into sleep.

    A Feathered Friend at Midnight

    After all the windows were quiet, Kip flew back to the steeple and tucked his head beneath his wing. He dreamed of answers floating on clouds and children smiling in their sleep.

    And every night after that, Kip returned with a new riddle or two, always just enough to guide the thoughts gently from the waking world into the realm of dreams.

    So if you ever hear a soft rustle at your window and a whisper in the night, don’t be afraid. It might just be Kip, the crow with the clever questions, here to help you rest. Goodnight, little thinker. May your dreams be full of wonder and soft little riddles.

    The End !

  • The Elephant Who Carried Sleep in His Trunk – How Eli the Kind Elephant Gave Dreams to the Tired Creatures of the

    The Elephant Who Carried Sleep in His Trunk – How Eli the Kind Elephant Gave Dreams to the Tired Creatures of the

    Far away on the golden plains of the savannah, where tall grasses swayed and the stars twinkled like diamonds in the sky, there lived a very special elephant named Eli.

    Eli wasn’t the biggest or loudest elephant, but he had a very rare gift, he could carry sleep in his trunk. Every evening, as the sun dipped below the hills and the sky turned soft and purple, Eli would take a deep breath and gently gather sleepiness from the air, like catching fireflies in a jar. He held it carefully in his long trunk, ready to share with anyone who needed help drifting off to dreamland.

    Helping the Savanna Sleep

    Eli had a gentle heart, and each night, he made his rounds through the savannah. First, he stopped by the restless zebras, who kept turning over on their sides.

    He gave a tiny puff from his trunk, poof! and their eyes fluttered closed.

    Next, he visited a lion cub who had too many thoughts bouncing in his head. “Close your eyes,” Eli whispered kindly, “I brought you something soft.” He gave another quiet breath from his trunk, and the little lion sighed, curling into sleep with a smile. From the chattering meerkats to the dozing hippos, everyone knew Eli’s sleepy magic would come just in time.

    The Sleepiest Trunk in the World

    One night, Eli met a baby owl who had never slept through the dark. “What if the stars blink out?” the owl asked, worried. Eli knelt down low and let the owl rest beside his giant ear. “The stars blink to say goodnight,” he whispered.

    He released the gentlest puff from his trunk, like the feeling of a warm breeze or the quiet hush of bedtime music. The baby owl’s eyes blinked once, then twice… and then didn’t open again until morning. Eli’s trunk wasn’t heavy with air, it was filled with comfort, calm, and dreams made of stardust and clouds.

    Until the Morning Comes

    After helping every creature find their rest, Eli would finally walk to his favorite tree beneath the moon. There, with the last bit of sleep in his trunk, he’d tuck himself into a nest of leaves. With a long, slow exhale, he’d share the final puff of sleep, with himself.

    And as the stars watched over him, Eli the Sleep, Bringer smiled and dreamed of more creatures he would help tomorrow.

    So if you ever feel too wide awake, just imagine a kind elephant nearby, gently blowing sleepy air your way, straight from the soft tip of his trunk. Goodnight, little dreamer. Sleep is on its way.

    The End !