Heron Lake Plateau Oh the Weather Outside is Frightful

Owen was starting to get a bit braver, more venturesome, a little better about not thinking that every little thing in the world was out to eat him. He was wandering the territory somewhat aimlessly, whilst keeping himself well away from that chilly blue lake that Father had warned them all about, when suddenly the threatening gray of the cloudcover that had been lurking in the skies since early morning at last made its move.

Owen skidded his paws to a halt in a cold patch of slightly squelchy mud and craned his ruddy-brown neck far, far back to gawk up at the sky. Normally he didn't much like getting too muddy, but at the moment he was a little distracted, with more important things on his mind than his paws dyeing themselves a wet dirt-brown to match other patches of his fur. Because from someplace high up above the skies were divesting themselves of small twirling bits of white that glimmered and twinkled in the dimming and fitful strands of light. What. On Earth. Was This.

His heart was pounding as he stood there and stared for a few long minutes that lasted an eternity. Then his muddy paws rocketed into action. He yelled half in terror and half in delight—or, well, maybe one quarter the latter and three-quarters the former—as he instinctively shot across the expanse of the plateau toward what his young mind still thought of as the safest haven in the world: Raven's old den where he had been born. And as he ran, he shouted, in increasingly breathless and not-entirely sensible patter: The stars, the stars are fallin'! Look, look look up, the stars!

Chest heaving, he careened to a less-than-elegant halt before the gaping black hole of the den entryway, his heart sinking as his brain started to catch up with his steps at last and he realized that the thing had probably accumulated several weeks' worth of dusty cold disuse by now, and odds were absolutely no one was in there. But he had to tell someone...he had to! He'd been told those falling stars were uncatchable, but now they were coming right to all of them! Though now that he thought about it, they were rather colder than he'd expected. And pretty small, really. It probably was a good thing the wolves'd never put in the effort to chase them down and haul them here themselves. Owen stuck his head indecisively into the dark earthern entryway, and then back out again to look down at the ground in puzzlement, where the tiny starflakes were quickly dissolving on every patch of dirt or blade of faded grass they hit upon. Yeah, these stars were much stranger and more ephemeral than he'd have ever guessed, and not entirely satisfactory. But still: they were here, finally, and @Quixote at least just had to be told, and preferably the rest of his family and everyone else as well.