Benny woke to a soft blue glow on his windowsill. A tiny star had fallen through his open window and nestled in his blankets. It trembled, its light flickering like a candle in a draft.
Benny wrapped the star carefully in his red scarf. He felt the warmth against his fur and held it close. He thought: I will put you back.
He lifted the star toward the sky, but it slipped through his paws and sank into a pile of autumn leaves. The leaves ruffled. The star's glow dimmed.
Benny carried the leaves to the tallest oak and began to climb. Branches scratched his knees. The forest grew darker with every step upward.
His paws ached and the branches were too thick. He could not reach high enough. Benny sat on a crooked limb and let out a small sigh.
A fox appeared between the trunks, amber eyes reflecting the faint starlight. Then an owl descended on silent wings. Then a rabbit hopped up from the roots.
They formed a living tower — the fox stood on his hind legs, the owl perched on the fox's shoulders, the rabbit clung to the owl's wings. Benny reached up.
Benny placed the star on the highest branch. It blazed suddenly, bright as a diamond, and shot upward with a soft ting that echoed through the trees.
The friends cheered, their voices rising together into the dark canopy. Above them, the star became a speck and then disappeared into the endless sky.
That night, Benny slept with his window wide open. Cool air rushed in and rustled the curtains. He dreamed of tall trees and quiet friends.
Above him, the stars rearranged themselves. One now hung a little lower, winking every time Benny looked.
Benny smiled in his sleep, clutching his red scarf. The cool night air brushed his face, and somewhere high above, a little star kept its watch.