Why did Mo continue to go stargazing in spots that obstructed his view of the sky? He wanted his soft grassy tuft back, but instead, Mo found himself straining to climb over benches and things in search of the perfect viewing location. Finally, he situated himself in a positively precarious position, leaning way out and looking upward toward where he had previously seen Andromeda.

Honestly, Andromeda and Pegasus were neighbors. This was just... oh yay! There he was! The winged horse himself, and that was QUITE a wingspan. Mo gave the horse a little salute and nearly fell and broken his noggin. That was decidedly not good, so Mo tightened his grip and held on for dear life as he better examined the beast in the sky.

"I think this one is my favorite," he informed... no one. Talking to himself. Not a good sign.