Balthazar’s house is strangely silent and empty, as though the house itself isn’t quite awake this morning. Outside the slow-falling snow has become a blizzard. The wind has begun to blow. Marie is worried. Balthazar the writer has disappeared and yet everything is where it should be. Strange little characters no higher than a match box are roving about the house. Will they succeed in finding the author of their story? And will Marie finally understand that La Bergère de chevaux was written for her, only for her! A story about love and writing!