Milo hopped beneath a sky crowded with stars. Then one tiny star dropped behind the pine trees. “Wait!” Milo cried.
Milo raced after the golden flicker. Crackle, crackle went the pine needles beneath his feet, but the little light vanished.
Milo searched beside a mossy stump, under a fern, and behind a smooth stone. Each hiding place was empty.
A firefly blinked near the stump. A shiny beetle crawled from the fern, and a wet acorn gleamed by the stone. “Not my star,” Milo said.
The forest grew darker and quieter. Then one last sparkle winked beside a puddle, and Milo followed it through the ferns.
Milo leaned close to the puddle. Plop! A tiny star popped from the water, sending ripples wobbling across the moonlit surface.
Milo hopped backward onto a soft pile of leaves. The little star floated higher, then a gust pushed it into a tall pine tree.
Milo stacked stones beneath the tree and climbed. The tower wobbled—clatter, clatter!—then tumbled into the leaves.
Milo stretched one paw toward the highest branch. The star flickered just above it, close enough to touch.
Milo gently lifted the star free. Zzip! It flew back into the sky, shining brighter than before.