Northstar Vale some of my storm recognized some of your rain
his crown was ever changing made as it was by leaves and berries of the season
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for @Seabreeze!

As the night rises in the sky, the velveteen colors of night swallowing the defiant and quickly fading colors of dusk as it reaches greedily to chase away the last vestiges of the sun Mato takes to the best star-gazing spot in the Vale. Ideally, it would be much better to climb as high as he could on one of the neighboring peaks, so close that he could touch the heavens! but a hesitancy fills him every time he considers it with any inkling of sincerity. The heights are dizzying from up close and he cringes away from them because he knows, in the heart of his heart, that he is a guardian of the earth and not destined to touch the stars. He is only meant to admire them, to navigate the earth by them. The empyrean settles upon his favorite rock: stretching languidly out upon it into a imperial, sphinx-like position as he cast his emerald gaze skyward. Already, the sky has begun to litter with the twinkle of distant stars and within the safety of the Vale he loses himself in the darkening sky, seeking out his favorite constellations. He is careful, now, to maintain a tether to the earth, to immerse himself in the Vale and it’s going on’s instead of secluding himself as the resident hermit. Not a befitting role for the druid who calls himself a guardian of the earth (not to mention whom has promised his skills and loyalty to his fellow Valeians).
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On mobile! Sorry for quality and length.

It had been some time since her rescue at the edges of the borders, but the yearling had not acquainted herself with anyone yet. She reeked of newness and salt and storm and though she reached for memories she could remember naught. 

So she became a recluse. Though her heart sang for interaction, she felt she had nothing to offer them in the way of socialization, just learning her trade.

It was one night when the hurt for others gripped her heart that she saw Mato slip off alone, and she set out to follow the druid, trusting him after their crossing at the Vale's border.  The woman came from behind, watching hum watchh the stars.  Soon she would make her presence known — Would you humor me if I asked you what enchants you so about the stars?
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his crown was ever changing made as it was by leaves and berries of the season
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your post was perfect, no worries!

A faint wisp of sea salt ticked his nostrils carried upon the perfume of the Vale’s newest member Seabreeze, as if the sea, stubborn in it’s delights clung stubbornly to her fur. Perhaps, Mato muses she would always bear the salty tang of the coast upon her, which again spurs his desire to pay the coast a visit. The sound of her approaching footfalls did not come as a surprise and there is a twitch of his ears given as he holds tight to his earthly tether and breaks his concentration to glimpse at her from the corner of his eye for a moment. Yet, when she speaks the starlit empyrean’s gaze lowers in full to give her the proper amount of attention, processing her question. Up close he notices, as his emerald gaze moves over her, that her fur is not just pale: it is threaded through with sandy blonde and russets, as well and her eyes are the color of a perfect, cloudless day.

He is amused by her question, wondering if he’d ever been asked that: or so boldly before. “I believe the question is who looks at the night sky and does not find the stars bewitching?” He inquires with a playful coyness, a soft hum in his throat. “The night sky is radiant with beauty and each star has a defining role to play, especially in their constellations, and each constellation has it’s own tale.” Some, admittedly, are much more sad than others, he thinks but does not voice this aloud. “Constellations and their positions change with the seasons and so long as you know how to read them correctly and remember where they sit each season you can navigate by them.” So long as one knew how to read them they would never get lost, Mato believes: they would always guide the navigator back home. “And if you are inclined to believe such things some claim that soothsayers can be predict futures by the stars but I imagine a master astronomer could be the only one to pull that off.” Mato remains on the fence about that, but is not totally inclined to write it off. He is no master (yet), after all.

Speaking about the stars is an easy way to lose Mato if one did not remind him that they were there; but Seabreeze does not yet need to draw his attention back to her for he offers her a glimpse to see her reaction to his words in his plight to prove that being an astronomer was an extremely useful trade.
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The yearling watches as his gaze fixes on her and for a moment she is worried that she has pulled him from something of deep importance, but he addresses her with respect and a familiarity she did not expect.

Bewitching they are... perhaps the stars would be a better mistress than the sea.  Her lips pull back into a smile and a chuckle falls from between them, dancing in the peaceful night's air.  It is now she moves closer to him, standing next to his rock to get a similar view. She cranes her head skyward and her jaw drops, slightly, eyes widened in awe for it is the first time (in this lifetime) that she has gotten to view the stars so clearly.  "How bright they are!"

She ripped her gaze from the stars and her eyes bore into Mato. Though she did not feel a desperate need to fill the silence, she did have the desire for more of this. And have you a favorite story?  A constellation in particular that moves you?  Quietly, she hoped he would go on forever; the way he described what she'd already heard had fascinated her.

She needed no convincing that this trade was undoubtedly useful — but the way he spoke of the stars, fondness like a lover's, could surely convince someone who didn't believe they were sure.  She appreciated how he spoke so openly of his trade with her, for all intents and purposes, an outsider.
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his crown was ever changing made as it was by leaves and berries of the season
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A small noise of contemplation leaves the imperial druid as Seabreeze mentions that the stars may make a better mistress than the sea. “I have never been to the sea,” He admits in a soft murmur and then adds with a small chuckle of mirth, “but neither have I touched the stars.” It is an impossible thing, he thinks. Yet, despite his curiosity — as insensitive and prying as it can be at times! — he does not ask her what the sea is like, lest he come off as rude. He often walks a fine line between curiosity and nosy and more than he’d care to admit that fine line blurs and smears; and truthfully there are times the Rochester simply …does not care whether he is being nosy. It depends and the criteria is never set, nor so easily defined in stark, black and white terms.

“My favorite changes,” He admits unabashedly and his gaze lifts from her to the heavens once more. “Currently, I am taken with Orion.” He lifts his muzzle and attempts to trace the constellation with his nose. Mato is easily a fictitious creature as he lives and breathes fanciful stories: of nature, of stars; thus it does not usually occur to him that his passions may mean nothing to anyone else. “He was the lover of a woman called Artemis, a goddess of the moon and hunt. Her brother, Apollo god of music and the sun grew jealous of their love affair. He devised a cruel plan that caused Artemis to kill Orion on accident; and unable to recognize her lover Artemis carried out Apollo's plan with flawless percision. Grief stricken, she asked her father Zeus to place him among the stars and so he did.” Mato offers her the story, though regardless of which version he chose to go with the end result was the same: Orion died, Artemis lived and Zeus immortalized him for his distraught daughter by placing him in the stars.
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For the better, perhaps, if you touched the stars you may never leave, and it seems like you like it here!  She watches Mato lost in thought, and then crosses her paws contentedly as he weaves the tale of Orion.

The stars are so many that to become one of them is to be lost, forgotten if the eye isn't directly upon it.  She mused for a second, worried that she might offend him. How fortunate we are to be blessed with the bodies of wolves.  We may come close to brushing the stars, enchanted by them, but never swept away.

The woman does not look back at him to guage his reaction and instead prepares her own tale, sating his unspoken curiosities. The sea is beautiful to behold but she is a wrathful goddess, easily angered.

Her mood changes with the pull of the moon and the wind.  One may read her and be confident of her temperament, journey into her arms only to be crushed by her embrace the next minute.  She realizes she has rambled on without invitation and embarrassment creeps up on her. What intrigues you so about Orion? And then, unintentionally bold — Have you tasted such sorrow?
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his crown was ever changing made as it was by leaves and berries of the season
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The star-kissed king druid considers her words and deduces that she is not wrong. The stars are bewitching, yes, but he is not borne of stardust. He is flesh and blood, of earth and it is to her he has his sacred duty; and one day when he dies he will nourish her as she has nourished him in life. Again, Seabreeze speaks true: it is easy to get swept away in the stars even when he cannot touch them. His presence has been much less in the Vale over the past month or so than he would have liked but his obsession had taken hold of him and he only detached himself to eat and sleep; and he’d made a promise to Rannoch to become more involved in the physical aspects of the Vale in an effort to help keep him tethered. An otherworldly obsession tempered by the earthborn obsessions.

Just as she offered him her rapt attention as he prattled about the stars and Orion, Mato affords her the same respect and courtesy, gaze lowering back to her, ears cupping forth, attentive as he listens to her tales of the illusive sea. “How does the moon effect the sea?” Mato asked, curiously, always eager to learn something new.

It is only natural to Mato that she inquires as to his (temporary) fascination with Orion, only to follow up with if he knew such sorrow. “I’m not sure,” He hedges honestly to in response to her first question and then answers, with a soft smile to the second, “No. I have known no love as Artemis and Orion nor have I been unfortunate to have lost anyone I love.” He speaks the truth as he knows it, entirely unaware that his sister Nova and mother Pearl have gone missing from the Teekons but such is his consequence for choosing to be separated from his family.
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They are called tides, when the sea rises and falls it is because of the moon.  I suppose our kingdoms are more alike than I initialy assumed.  She heaved herself up and climbed the rock that Mato had perched on, laying next to him.  The view of the heavens was even greater here.  It struck her that the druid was lucky; his trade allowed him such a lovely view and what impressed her more was that Mato understood the stars, their positions, and what they meant.

One day, I hope for you some kind of love as strong as that of Artemis and Orion, without their untimely demise.  Thank you for sharing this with me.
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his crown was ever changing made as it was by leaves and berries of the season
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Seabreeze explains to him, patiently, that the moon effects the sea in what is called a tide and that it rises and recedes by the silent decree of the moon, which Mato (of course!) finds fascinating. “They share a connection,” He murmurs in quieted but awed agreement. He knows the sun is vital to the earth and now he knows that so, too, is the moon. She climbs up upon his star-gazing rock and Mato — not used to sharing it — scoots over to make room for her. It is a strange thing …to have another body sharing his star-gazing rock with him but oddly enough he does not mind. The empyrean draws in a deep breath and lets it out in a heavy exhale, muzzle bending towards his muzzle to nibble at a slight itch and smooth the fur back down with a swipe of salmon pink tongue before he looks not to the sky but to Seabreeze as she has wishes him a love like Artemis and Orion — minus the death. Love. He recognizes the word when he applies it to his family but it’s romantic branch off remains a stranger to the druid. A stranger that he, admittedly, had never considered ever wanting. Unlike some wolves of his age (and older) he does not look for someone to settle down with (then again he is still just a boy!). He is stuck in the mentality that if it happens then great and if it doesn’t …then nothing changes. “Thank you,” Mato accepts graciously, regardless, because he thinks it would be rude not to. “I am always more than happy to share my love for the stars.” The empyrean responds with a soft chuckle. “Oftentimes I do not know when to stop.”
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Seabreeze did not realize she could be intruding until he moves to make room for her.  Since her arrival (although it was not long ago) she had been taking up the least amount of room she could spare, making herself small, and here was someone she respected making room for her.  Still, she intruded on him.  She could have at least asked first.

Of course.  You may always come to me, seek me out when you feel inclined to talk about your passions.  I am happy to listen.  Much like Mato she was very young and knew not what romantic love was or felt like (still a yearling and needing to find herself first), but she was intimate.  She enjoyed the company of others, the feeling of fur on fur or the varying shades of conversation.  But she knew that love was apparently a good thing, which meant a kind and gentle soul such as the druid would deserve it!

She would muse on these thoughts the rest of the night, watching the stars with her friend and eventually dozing off there at the rock, grateful for the time he'd spared her that evening.

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