“My name is Wini.”
Ulla turned around. “Where am I?” She pulled herself up feeling very shaky.
“Binnanbrim! I’m sorry about the ride. There’s no other way, I’m afraid. You’ll be less wobbly in a minute.”
“Binnanbrim?” Ulla fell back down again.
Wini sat down next to her. “You need to help. You need to make a fountain.”
“What’s a fountain?”
As Ulla became less wobbly, Wini explained to her how Binnanbrim’s ocean sky was the source of her well. He described how she could make a fountain which would bring water to all the people in the town. He very proudly showed her drawings and little models of fantastically sculpted fountains overflowing with water, bubbling up for everyone; water as pure and clean as that at the bottom of her well.
“Will you remember all this?” Wini smiled.
“Yes, of course.” Ulla looked around her. The sight was incredible: reds fuzzed, blues lolloped and purples wiggled about as oranges melted into them.