Verdant Basin you are a child of the cosmos, and ruler of the skies

The rivulet had cut a serpentine course through outstretched trees and washed banks, thirsty for a touch of promised rain. The sharp cut of daylight had been diminished by a swatch of roiling clouds. They had been thick and stout with deep grey that spread to the silver edges in a taut hold against a lashing storm. It was only after the sun had fallen behind a distant mountain that droplets fell. Light tapping against a fresh canopy of springtime foliage played like a natural jazz. Even the fresh flighted sparrows could not help but to flutter down and bathe, sharing in melodious song that echoed against tree bough. As the roughhewn nimbus passed, the sparrows returned to the crown of the tree and watched from the comfortable perch.
 
Cloaked in the shade of a night sky, Orion pressed himself onward through the thick of the wood until he was met with a quick jutting of the waterflow. If he should have followed it further northeast, it would have led him across stretches of open terrain and long sloping hills. To the east, he searched with a glittering, luminous gaze. To the east, the wendigo could see a large watershed, and beyond it was a rough mountain. For only a spell, Orion trailed the jagged cutting of the stone and marveled. He would not attempt the excursion over the top of it, but had sought a path to trek around.
 
A cool lick of the air toyed with the frays in his starlit cloak. The freshness of the draft was so foreign that it found a means to take him aback. The transformation was a slow buildup to the arching of his back and the jutting like rigid quills along his neck and shoulders. Freedom was untrodden, new in a life that had only been accustomed to the shackles of slavery.
 
Having broken through the tree line, the Starchaser instinctively turned himself into an upward stare. Somewhere beyond the clouds, there was the faintest glittering of starlight. The moon glowed like a nightstand lamp from behind the concealment of thick brume. Even against the dismal backdrop and the roll of mile-away thunder, Orion pressed on. After he had ambled his way across the rolling hills before the basin, he crossed his path with the mouth of the watering hole. Enough for today, the winds reminded him, whispering softly with a gentle touch against his flesh. Bending himself to quench the dry itch at the back of his throat, the Starchaser quelled his thirst.