Rayla is a small astronaut. She is brave, but a little shy. She lives at the Galactic Outpost, a quiet place with round doors and soft lights.
One night, the Outpost goes dim.
“Uh-oh,” whispers Rayla. “My bright star-lamp is gone.”
The star-lamp is her favorite. It makes a warm, sleepy glow.
A gentle voice floats by.
“Baa… whoosh,” says the Cloud Shepherd.
The Cloud Shepherd looks like a fluffy cloud with a tiny bell. It guides little clouds like sheep.
“Can you help me?” asks Rayla.
The Cloud Shepherd nods. “Whoosh. Follow.”
They tip-tap down the silver hallway. They pass the snack box. They pass the boot rack.
Rayla holds her helmet tight.
At the big window, they see space.
Stars blink.
A shadow swoops.
“Dragon,” murmurs Rayla.
A space Dragon glides outside. Its wings are long like sails. Its eyes shine like marbles.
Rayla’s knees feel wobbly.
The Cloud Shepherd drifts closer.
“Soft clouds,” it hums. “Safe clouds.”
They ride a puff of cloud through a small air door. The cloud is like a floating pillow.
Rayla sits. The Cloud Shepherd rings its bell. “Ding… ding.”
They float near the Dragon.
The Dragon is not roaring.
It is… sniffing.
Sniff. Sniff.
Rayla sees something bright under its chin.
Her star-lamp!
It is stuck in sticky, sparkly space goo.
“Hey, Dragon,” Rayla says, using her kind voice. “That is my lamp. Are you okay?”
The Dragon sneezes.
“Achooo!”
Tiny glitter dots fly.
The Dragon looks embarrassed.
The Cloud Shepherd herds a little cloud forward.
“Whoosh,” it says, and the cloud gently wipes the goo.
Rayla reaches out with her astronaut glove.
“Slow,” she whispers. “Careful.”
The Dragon holds still.
Rayla pulls.
Pop!
The star-lamp comes free.
“Thank you,” Rayla tells the Dragon.
The Dragon blinks.
Then it gives a small, shy purr.
But the goo is still on the Dragon’s nose.
The Dragon snorts.
It looks like it wants to cry.
Rayla thinks.
“I have a space wipe in my pocket,” she says.
She wipes the Dragon’s nose. Wipe-wipe.
The Dragon relaxes.
It opens its mouth, not for fire, but for a gift.
A round box floats out.
It is a treasure pod.
Inside are tiny glow-stickers.
They look like stars, moons, and smiling comets.
“For me?” asks Rayla.
The Dragon nods.
The Cloud Shepherd rings, “Ding!”
Back at the Galactic Outpost, Rayla sticks the glow-stickers on the walls.
Now the hallway twinkles.
Her star-lamp shines again.
Rayla waves at the window.
“Good night, Dragon,” she says.
The Dragon swoops once, gentle and quiet.
Rayla cuddles her lamp.
“I was scared,” she whispers, “but I used my kind voice.”
The Cloud Shepherd drifts by like a sleepy blanket.
“Whoosh… safe,” it sings.
The Outpost glows.
Rayla smiles.
And the stars outside blink back, bright and happy.