Moonrun

Michael Jackson had his moonwalk, while Darryl Beardall has his moonrun. And it's not like he's done these miles in the vacuum of space. For lack of a better term, he's a “serial racer.”

Those four rings of yours do not allow you to attempt moonrunning! Now, let's get you back where you started, shall we? The moonlight was like a gigantic bolt of silk flung from Goddess Keep to Waes. He slid along it pell-mell, breathless at the speed and the whirl of colors around him. Back in the alley outside the garden again, he watched with his mind as Andrade effortlessly disentangled him from the weave and vanished back along her silken moonlight. It took him a few moments ...

... lots of moon flowers. Bzz bzzz,” bids Littlefoot in farewell just before she disappears from the dusty land without wind, the coldest, hottest, darkest, brightest place the Num has ever known. The bee that nearly took Littlefoot's life, only to save it, lies dead on the surface of the moon, not a natural playground for bees, but a sacred burial place for such a Num-ble bee as this one. Littlefoot falls asleep on the return trip in the Num, a natural reaction to so much moon-walking, moonrunning, ...