Milo woke to an empty sky where the Moon should be. He grabbed his yellow lantern.
He shook the bedroom window until Fox, Badger, and Sparrow tumbled into the yard, sleepy and confused.
Milo pointed upward, his jaw dropping. 'It's gone,' he whispered.
The four friends climbed the hill behind Milo's wooden house.
Badger sniffed the wind. Fox padded silently. Sparrow darted upward.
They looked left. They looked right. They looked up. Milo's shoulders dropped. Fox's tail twitched nervously. Sparrow returned with a drooping twig and a confused chirp.
They followed Sparrow's chirps down to the glowing garden path. Badger dug at a burrow entrance, then brushed soil from his paws. Milo's lantern flickered and went out.
In the sudden dark, they heard a soft, rumbling giggle.
They crept toward the sound and discovered the Moon wedged behind the round hill, half-buried in moss.
Milo's eyes went wide, then he grinned. The Moon's surface felt cool and smooth like a river stone under his palms.
Milo waved his friends over; together they heaved against the Moon's glowing edge.
The Moon rolled free and floated back into place, casting silver light over the sleeping village. Milo's friends nuzzled close. A gentle breeze carried the sweet scent of night-blooming flowers. Milo led his friends home along the now-glowing path.
