Herbalists' Cache the promise

a white star in a blanket of eternal midnight. the singular white star. he had felt as if he were free falling, a streak in the black of siblings and a mother’s fur.
he had crashed, and exploded into a million fragments. his voice loud when he took his first cry, a sorrowful lament that rivaled the greatest of bards.
a furious little boy, a calamity. he was not quiet until he felt his mother’s first touch and was snuggled into her belly fur, against the side of his sister.
then: peace. peace in the wake of war.