Horace lay dozing in his wicker basket on the old wooden boards of his owner's back porch. The moon and the stars appeared as bright as ever on this warm comforting summers night. Sleepy, Horace relaxed his eyes and began to drift into sleep. Over the lush green creepers that flung themselves over the high walls of Horace's yard came a snow white moth. Flopping its wings in a peaceful flutter, the moth swooped down through the lazy night air and onto the porch where Horace lay. Horace's eyes stretched open as the moth came to rest on his moist pink nose. With eyes narrowed, Horace's stiffened his legs ready to pounce. With a leap and a narl Horace lunged at the silvery moth. Horace paused after his great effort and went to bite down on the pray in his mouth. As Horace bit down the white moth flew off from under a golden maple leaf were it had hidden. Horace yelped as he bit down on his tongue. Come back here. I'll catch you!' cried the embarrassed Horace as he scampered after the cheeky white moth as it rounded the corner and flew out in to the street. The moth's wings now buzzed with anticipation as Horace broke into a gallop on the pebbled footpath, in front of his house. Horace caught sight of the moth darting through the night's sky. Horace chased and chased and as the moth rose into the thick black sky his wings relaxed, flapping in the smooth breeze. Still at pace, Horace looked above to see the sly moth too far above to reach. He then looked down just in time to see the approach of a huge black iron gate. Horace's chubby sides slid past the cool bars of the great iron gates, as the moth flew over above past a sign reading The Gardens'. Trees appeared in good numbers, and as the canopy swooped down to restrict the flight of the moth, the chase intensified. Horace leaped forward at speed as the moth dodged and dived between the low limbs of great trees. With Horace closing, the moth paniced, clipping its delicate wing as it swooped low. As the injured whisp of silver rounded a hedge he appeared to shoot down towards the many trodden earth. With a pounce and a narl, Horace rounded the corner. He found himself balanced on a slopping garden bed with the moth nowhere to be seen. The rich brown earth below wavered under its new strain and Horace's footing slipped. He tumbled like a barrel. Rolling from side to side, the thick undergrowth blocked his vision while there seemed no end to his journey. At the top of each movement he saw a dashing glimpse of the night's sky. A thick black blanket with piercing diamonds dotted liberally in all directions. The whole white moon provided Horace with a crisp vision of blades of grass as he came to a dizzy disorientated holt. Rolling onto his back in a mone Horace whaled out to the Night's sky You horrible, horrible moth!' No sooner had he said this than one of the stars in the sky moved, darting while drifting nearer. Horace in amazement focused as the naughty white moth flew past his cheek and off into the nights sky. Horace had given up. He rolled over onto his stomach and inspected his surroundings. He found himself in a large grass clearing surrounded by large conifers and bordered on one side by a large gray building. Horace span around to look for the direction in which he had come. Shock shot through him. He did not know. Horace was lost.