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Moth was a pathfinder. He lived in the depths of the forest just to the left of the Thorn River (which frothed and lathered it's way down to the sea from the Mountain of Goth).
All the people who lived in the forest thought that Moth was the best pathfinder around and asked him to find them paths through spring, summer, autumn and winter. Now this was not the easiest of things to do since the forest was thoroughly full of caves, boulders, thorns, ferns, brambles, trees rotted through until they crumbled to the touch, and any manner of the creepiest, crawliest insects and reptiles you could ever wish (not!) to meet.
It was the darkest day of winter, snow lay thick on the forest floor and Moth was quite happily minding his own business just pottering about his snug thatched cottage. Suddenly, like a clap of thunder, a bang at his door made the whole house shake and tremble. Moth dithered and dathered, he really didn't want to open the door on a day like today, but finally made up his mind and slithered quietly to look through the peephole.
Well, you would not have believed it, there, on the doorstep, was the tiniest, skinniest little grandfather look-a-like you would ever get to see.
Moth opened the door, he thought that such a little old grandfather look-a-like could not cause any kind of problem whatsoever. Little did he know!
"Please would you find me a path down to the sea? I truly need to get there within the next day as my grandmother look-a-like friend was gathering driftwood on the beach and, because she is so small, she has become caught up in an old net left by a fisherman, and, and she doesn't know what to do.............."
Moth thought deeply for just about 50 nano-seconds and, because he was basically a very caring and trustful person he put on his quilted jumpsuit, gathered up a number of odds and ends which might just come in useful when rescuing tiny grandmother look-a-likes from abandoned nets and in no time at all they were on their way.
Of course, the very first problem was that the little old grandfather look-a-like (whose name was Prath by the way) could not keep up with Moth, so Moth had to carry him on his shoulders. The next problem was that Prath had a very bad habit of hitting Moth on the head every time he spoke - just to emphasise his point you understand - and within two hundred yards Moth had a thumping headache!
Very slowly they made their way down to the river Thorn, which frothed and lathered it's way down to the sea from the Mountain of Goth you remember, and which, therefore, seemed the most sensible path to follow. By this time Moth's headache was so bad all he wanted to do was jump in the River Thorn and let it carry them down, frothing and lathering all the way of course!
Prath was not that pleased when Moth told him of his plan - he really didn't fancy the idea at all and even dared to point out that jumping in a frothing and lathering river was not "finding" a path at all, but just, well, just letting nature do the work for you.
At this Moth lept into space, Prath clinging on for dear life and banging like mad on Moth's head which didn't exactly help the situation.
Thump, bump, froth, lather, yet more thumping and bumping and frothing and lathering later, the pair ended up being thrown onto an island covered with thick creeping ivy. Prath by this time was hopping mad and Moth's head was hopping in a totally different way.
Put it this way, they ended up spending the night on the thick creeping ivy covered island - each at one end with their backs turned towards each other and you could have cut the atmosphere with a knife I can tell you. To add to their discomfort the ivy turned out to be full of slugs, snails, snakes and spiders which took great delight in slithering and sliming all over the pair as they rested.
A very shiny, sticky pair made their way sheepishly downriver to the sea, Prath strapped to Moth's back rather than on his shoulders.
They reached the beach in no time at all. Prath got down. Moth looked at Prath. Prath looked back at Moth.
"Well?" asked Moth. "Where is she then?"
"Where is who?" asked Prath with a thin grin.
"Your friend, you know the grandmother look-a-like caught up in net. You know."
"Oh her, oh yes... um .. well you see....um, it's like this....." stuttered Prath.
It didn't take long for Moth to realise that there was no grandmother look-a-like friend but I can tell you that there was very soon a grandfather look-a-like on the beach, tightly wrapped in abandoned net and safely stapled together (yes one of Moth's bits and pieces had definitely come in useful after all) and, for all I know, he is there still...................................
