He is not alone on this night. Truly, he is never completely alone. There are always voices in the wind, screams in the sky and scents tickling his nose. No, alone would be the lack of sensation, the lack of touch, hearing, sight, smell. Yet there is more than just his senses here, more than just the stars above as his eyes remain closed in the bath of silver light that caresses his dark chocolate and black form.

There is the sound of others, other beings like himself. Being with fur, being that roam on four paws with pointy faces, long tails that extend their form. Wolves are his kind, they are his sisters and brothers. They are scattered all throughout Moladion. It is no surprise that others have come to see the wonders of Earth, the wonders of the world changing as time progress but slow and fast.

There is always a certain electricity in the air when one has intent less kind, and such an electricity was lacked with the approach of footsteps on the rocks below. He felt no need to turn and face who may be coming, no need to be started or afraid. He simply was - a wolf, a being in whole awaiting the company that the stars deemed needed to be here. His ears lift in attention as the stranger speaks, brilliant blue eyes opening their lids most slowly and reflecting light in a way that makes them glimmer above the silver fur upon his face. He asks why, this stranger. He is one of the many who do not listen to the song of the stars, one who does not open his mind, or perhaps, his purpose was different in life, and the stars do not speak their messages to him. Perhaps, yet he always felt everyone could hear them whisper - if only they really listened.

" It is me, that they guide. It is me, that they speak to. Their words, are most loud. Their message, most clear," he states with his gentle voice, a voice most appropriate for the gentle light of stars. He remains most still, only a slight waver of his shimmering fur as a wind flows down from the sliver of sky above. With his eyes open, seeking the star above he is told, by the movement close that souls a many gather on this night. He lowers his face most handsome, towards the girl who peeks around an edge, wishing to be obscured and yet...and yet she is curious.

"In the light of moon, in the light of stars, come sit, the two who have come this night," he beckons, blue eyes blinking slowly like a cat towards the female before diverting his eyes, not wishing to challenge or discourage her approach.

"Wolves of Moladion, often do not hear stars, often ask, why I stare, with eyes most open. They say, stars do not speak to wolves of Moladion, is this so, with you?" he asks, to both the male and the female. In reality, he wished to find another whom the stars speaks to, to know he was not completely alone in this land so foreign from his old home, a land he had now called home for many years. Yes, this was a land that he had helped save, the wolves of Trenus spared the wrath of the skies. He was the one who the stars spoke to, telling of the tragedy to come. He was the one Heyel listened to in order to leave, ignoring the babbling of Dude and caring not for the gypsies of Hawthorn. The stars did speak to him...yet, did they ever speak to those born here?