Lone Star Mountain that guy's brain is a bag full of cats

Menta was laying down, pleased in the calm air that surrounded her and her brown companion as she looked up to the twinkling northern star. The cream wasn't entirely sure why she had been so tickled by stars as of late - not believing too much in superstition or forecasts of the future - but it seemed a harmless interest in any case, and a beautiful starting tradition to share with Banner. They had been successful in their mission of hiking up, receiving the visual reward of the northern star winking back down to them, and the cream wolf had happily and immediately settled.

The stillness was broken by the sounding out of rams horns butting, and Menta's left ear twitched momentarily in that direction. Banner immediately grumbled and the cream looked over with a grin starting to play on her lips - the Italian was no expert on wolf relations, but she highly doubted that her friend was actually talking about the males currently knocking heads. Something you'd like to share? she asked, shifting her head to get a better look at the brown wolf now instead of the sky.