…in a half-crumbling world, a silver bunny sat beside an empty throne…
A father and his daughter, laying in the grass, cloud watching, the sky their canvas.
Every Sunday, her father would point and ask, “What do you see? A dragon? A ship? A castle in the sky?”
She’d start with something simple. “A bunny.”
The pair didn’t know the clouds were listening. With every imagination, the clouds were gaining life. The bunny would stretch, fur turning silver, eyes glowing with mischief. It would bound off toward candy-colored hills, where rivers ran thick with ink, waiting for stories to be written.
The world—NeverWonderLand—began to finish the thoughts of the father and daughter, and whisked them away into the sky.
The father became known as The Ideas King, built wonders beside his daughter. Floating libraries. Staircases that led to nowhere—until you decided where they should go. Here, ideas weren’t just thoughts. They were real.
Every Sunday, they would return to the lands of their creation. Laughing, imagining, dreaming into existence.
Then, one day, the King stopped coming.
Reality called him back. Permanently.
The daughter, known to the NeverWonderLand locals as The Idea’s Princess, tried to return on her own, but her ideas wouldn’t finish themselves anymore. The castles crumbled. The ink rivers dried. The bunny waited for her—but she didn’t know what to tell it anymore.
The pain of returning to memories, once bright, now darkened.
So she forgot.
She grew up, became a teacher. Told children to focus, to color inside the lines.
And somewhere, in a half-crumbling world, a silver bunny sat beside an empty throne.
Waiting.
At least, that’s how The Legend goes.
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