Heron Lake Plateau under stars

Owen had told them all to look up, but in truth he himself was likely to make that a little more difficult for the trio he was smotheringly trying to attach himself to in particular. He was gratified that none of his sisters were around to steal the attention of his currently mercurially favored group of adults away, though, and that all three adults were actually listening to him for once. It made him feel somewhat powerful, for a change, a heady sensation that combined with the closeness of the protective adults to make him feel almost content, for once.

And then there were the stars. Owen tilted his own small head back with his mouth wide open, watching avidly as the stars went insane high above him. He'd never seen anything like this, and yet despite his initial trepidations the streaking star-creatures didn't seem to be getting anywhere close to him and none of the adults seemed very concerned. Owen blinked as he glanced around at them all, and whimpered just a little and swiped a paw in Aunt Towhee's general direction as she slumped against Finley instead of him—he couldn't even begin to guess what might be going through her head, beyond a vague wondering as she seemed to draw some comfort from big gray Finley if perhaps Towhee was suddenly in need of protection herself...no, no, surely not; she was big and strong and probably part raptorbird and could never be thought of as weak or needing others the way uncertain little puppies did! Owen himself still had an attentive Quixote and Eljay snugged up closer to him, though, and the dazzling distraction of the spectacular light show Nature was bestowing upon them all: his eyes were quickly pulled away from Towhee and back to the dancing stars, on the off-chance she might mistakenly think the demandingly overdramatic little brat was actually in some sort of real distress.

He absentmindedly tried to more-firmly encircle the nearest convenient bits of Quixote and Eljay with his stubby legs and squoosh them ever closer to him, just like a small child clutching a favorite stuffed animal. He distractedly signed an affirmative -I watch, yes,- at his father, despite Qui possibly being just about the least likely wolf here to be able to parse this bit of ptero. What he said aloud was a breathy, Oooooh. And then, his continued distraction and fascination plain, after staring at the falling stars for a little while, he asked of the general gathered company as the question popped into his head: Can weh' catchem? What would it be like to hunt fleeing stars, and what would they taste like?