The dog licked the crumbs that had fallen onto the ground. “You’re not from here, are you?” “No,” said the dog, “I’m not from here.” “Where do you come from, then?” “From far away,” said the dog. “Are you lost?” The dog thought carefully. There was probably a lot more cake back where she came from. And there were probably all the other tasty things he had dreamed of in windy barns on his travels: crispy chicken skin, bread with liver pâté, cream pudding and milk rice.
‘The best thing that I can do, is to decide upon taking some straight line, and continue on it: I must get out of the forest at last, even if I walk right across it.”
After a taxing journey through the threatening city streets, Felix finds Alex, but now both are a long way from home. They follow the trail of Felix’s dropped stuffing to find their way back.