Firefly Glen Blue Masquerade, Strangers look on

Alaric told a story about a small star and its mother.

Kannoyak listened, eyes fixed on the trees furthest to them. The story was simple and kind. It sounded like something that should be shared with children. After a warm conversation with the mother, the little star shone brightest in the sky.

The white hunter was not certain of its validity. He looked up, regarding the heavens with some small flicker of skepticism. Not all stories were truth, he knew. Kannoyak wondered how many young wolves had been diminished by similar taunting. Would this tale have aided them in growing to something greater than their insecurities?

This one believes you are a fine storyteller.

The white hunter spoke plainly, though he wore a small smile on his lips.

There are pups in my village that would have enjoyed it. To be the brightest star.