Northstar Vale some of my storm recognized some of your rain

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?