Ada once knew a little fox named Pip. He lived in a warm den under an old oak tree. Pip was brave in the daytime. He leaped over logs, followed butterfly trails, and climbed the tallest hill. But when the sun went down, Pip hurried home. The dark made every shadow look too big. One evening, Pip saw a tiny moth resting beside the path. “I cannot find my family,” the moth whispered. They were waiting near the moonlit pond, but the path went through the dark woods. Pip’s paws began to shake. Still, he took a slow breath. “I will help you,” he said. “We can be afraid and brave at the same time.” Pip and the moth walked beneath the trees. At first, every sound made Pip jump. Then he began to listen. The soft whoosh was only the wind. The quiet tap was an acorn falling. Little lights blinked among the ferns. “Fireflies,” said the moth. Pip noticed that the dark was not empty. It held stars, sleepy birds, and gentle night songs. At last, they reached the pond, where the moth’s family fluttered happily around the reeds. Pip smiled and walked home under the silver moon. The woods were still dark, but they no longer felt so frightening. Back in his cozy den, Pip curled beneath his blanket. “Good night, moon. Good night, woods,” he whispered. Then the brave little fox closed his eyes and slept peacefully until morning.