The Sentinels on letting go

she corrected him, and he let the corner of his lips tug upwards into a surprised smile. "ah, you are an asteriai," he presented her title as if it were a jeweled crown placed upon her head. "a being of stars and moon."

his tail found itself to a steady sway as she spoke of travels and stories, to which he felt a surge of merriment pulse through him. "i am a mender, a healer for the broken and the lost."

he stepped a few paces to the side, off towards a dead tree that had begun to sprout new life. "and my stories are that of restoration. of guiding the stray back to the path of life."

he turned to her then, eyes of magma brimming with soul and devotion.