The cranes were folded from paper of all colours and threaded together on long strings, hanging almost to the ground. There must have been hundreds of them. The result was both eye-catching and quite lovely.
Hestia had been studying them for no more than a moment when the little dog darted by again, racing out from the back of the stall, tail wagging energetically behind it. And for just a fraction of a second it seemed to Hestia that the swishing tail left the faintest of afterimages in its wake, so that it appeared that the dog had not one tail but eight or nine. She was gazing after it speculatively when Inari joined her.
She turned at the sound of his voice, a little surprised by the question, but unharried. "Well, as I remember it, the legend goes that should a person successfully fold a thousand origami cranes, then that person may be granted a wish."
Her smile was friendly and open, but the eyes that met his were thoughtful. She was remembering a little dog who had seemed to have not one tail, but many...
"But you don't have the look of somebody chasing wishes, I think," she added, gently.