High above the rooftops, Pip the sleepy star tried very hard to be a serious sky guardian. He checked the north. He checked the south. He counted the streetlights one by one, just in case any had forgotten to glow. "If I close my eyes," Pip told himself, "something important might slip." So he blinked wider, and wider still, until his edges felt sparkly and tired. Being careful was good. Being exhausted was not the same thing, though Pip had not learned that difference yet.