Be my little flashlight

Osprey had never toyed with the idea that wolves and those predators that were smaller than them could belong to the same group. Sentient beings, capable of complex ideas and thought. The magpie she had met once had been able to talk and convey simple sentences, but did it mean that it had intellect? That could compare in any way to the one wolves had? Then again - there were fearsomer predators than wolves - bears and cougars, who would occasionally attack and eat them. Did they consider themselves as the ultimate intelligent creatures? She would never find out, unless such a question troubled her at some point in her life.

The owl, however, sounded surprisingly smart, and Osprey briefly wondered, if this was not some sort of forest spirit that had taken a form of an owl. "You haven't?" she lifted her eyebrows. The chosen words weren't the ones that had confused her. The way he had said - as if his kind did it and hers didn't. "Stars... I have heard that they are helpful to some. There are people that can actually read them," her own father had held such a skill. Unfortunately this as well as her mother's encyclopedic knowledge of brids weren't passed on to Osprey. "I draw inspiration from them. I like to think that each one of them is a story to be discoevered and told," she shrugged. "What about you?"