Porcupine Ridge the world will never be the same

She explained that it was the anniversary of her birth, and he nodded, smiling. "May the next year treat you well," he murmured, but soon, there were more important things to discuss. Stars. His eyes glowed, as if they were lit from the back, and he nodded up at the sky, lowering his gaze to her with barely-contained excitement.

"What is your favorite star?" the priest asked, tilting his head in inquiry. He pointed with his muzzle at the horizon in illustration. "Filos, our friend and caretaker, low in the sky? Or perhaps. . ." He lifted his nose further, aiming it at the shimmering blue orb that outshone so many of her siblings. "Perhaps Pheiros, the brilliant sapphire beauty?"

He looked back down at the woman, his smile not diminishing one bit. "I am Phocion," he introduced himself, bowing his head in gentle greeting.