Noah wants a little house. One that's all his own. One that his friends can fit in. And his toys. He'll build it all by himself, in a very tall, very large tree. How will he do it? Noah knows: with wood, screws, and a lot of determination. And then? And then, he'll enjoy it. But... (there's always a "but" in stories), what if there's a danger—toothy, hairy, scary—lurking? Noah knows, because he has answers for everything. Because this little house is much more than a house: it's a refuge, a kitchen that smells good, a soft bed, a place where imagination sprouts and fears become small, very small. And Noah, growing bigger, more powerful, and braver.