Luna hopped off the mossy pile and padded to the den entrance. Three fireflies hovered like glowing seeds. She swiped — and one zipped into the dark woods.
Luna chased the firefly over a root, past bluebells, and deeper into the trees. She stopped. The warm pine smell was gone.
She trotted back, peeking left at shadows and right at a squirrel dropping an acorn. *Plip.* She stepped carefully over the prickly burrs. No fireflies anywhere.
Luna climbed a low branch and looked down. The den was hidden behind ivy. A silver-winged moth drifted past. Then she saw it — a golden thread on a thistle.
The golden thread led to a hollow log. Mamma's red-and-cream scarf fluttered like a flag from inside. And deep in the wood — Pappa's purr rumbled.
Luna pressed her ear to the bark. Two glowing eyes blinked in the dark. 'Luna?' Her paw reached out from the knothole — Mamma found her.
Back in the den, Luna curled between Mamma and Pappa. Fireflies painted the air gold. Pappa nudged her close with his nose.
Luna closed her eyes. She listened to the double rhythm of their breathing, and drifted to sleep.
