Phantom Hollow it's a dangerous business, going out your door

The words were a gentle song, music to his ears, and Phocion nodded, the storyteller's fever-dream settling upon him like a cloak. He pointed his muzzle to the moon, looking over at Cortland. "Do you know why we wake with the sun?" Letting a few beats of silence go by, he then continued. "Her light is so bright, so intrusive, that we cannot help but be swayed by the ever-present rays."

He frowned, shaking his head. "This was not meant to be so. Once, there was no sun, no fiery warmth. Only the peaceful cool night, ruled by the two moons and their many children." The stars twinkled back at them in a wave of 'hello.' He still wondered what Cortland's guiding asteria would be, if he were to choose one.

"The biggest and brightest of these children was named Ileana. Though she was more beautiful than the rest, still she was jealous of her mother's radiance." His tone grew bitter, low, hushed, as if it shamed him to utter these next words. "One day, while Erastia's back was turned, Ileana swallowed up her mother and took her light for her own. So bright, she surpassed all others--blotted out the stars, even her own father. Thus, the first day fell upon the earth."

Phocion sighed, hanging his head. "Wolves were not meant to roam in day, Cortland," he murmured, pressing his chin over the other's forehead, as if protecting him from unseen enemies. "The endless night was our domain, and with the dawn of the first day, we grew weak--and have grown weaker since." He lifted his eyes to the sky, the moonlight bouncing off the twin cerulean orbs. "But those who have kept to the night will reap the reward, when the time comes that Fengari catches Ileana, rescues his wife from her clutches--and restores order."