Moonbrim
The Moth Who Was Afraid of the Dark
Every moth loves the dark — except Plume, who was born at noon and never let go of the light. A gentle bedtime story about the night she got lost between the lamps, and what her wings did when the moon finally found them. For every little one who sleeps with the light on.
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Every moth loves the dark, except one. Plume was born at noon in sunbeams. But every evening, the dark returned.
Her family flew at night to sip moonflowers. Plume stayed behind, watching their wings fade. She tried to follow, hopping lamp to lamp.
The last lamp flickered, then darkness swallowed everything. Alone in the meadow, Plume forgot to fly. Then something silver opened above the sleeping hills.
Her wings drank the moonlight and shimmered. The dark was never empty, only soft lights. She flew to her family, glowing brightly.
Now Plume flies first every night, lighting paths.