Duck Lake The Tingler

The white priest smiled at Engel. "We don't have any formal prayers," he explained. "Well, lykosi--those are non-priests--don't. Just pick a star, any star, and talk to her." He lifted his eyes to the sky. "Tell her your dreams, your desires, your fears. She'll listen."

He sat on his haunches for a moment, thinking. It had been a while since he had prayed in this fashion. Since become kyrios-filos, he had stuck strictly to ritual, finding his greatest power rested in words passed down for generations. But before that? He had just been Phocion, powerless, save he could always open his mouth to speak frankly to the stars.

"My star was Filos." Phocion gestured with his nose to the horizon, toward the bright point of light, omnipresent in the sky despite the season. "She is our guide, our friend, through thick and thin. For a long time, I lacked direction. Filos helped me find a way.

"Perhaps she can help you, too," he continued, looking back at Engel. He shrugged, the trance leaving his eyes. "You don't have to, right now. Just anytime, when the mood strikes you. Anytime you need to talk. . .talk to her. Talk to them," he added, sweeping his muzzle across the sky. "They'll listen."

ooof sorry for the wait on this