The sun was setting on the horizon, the sky melting into oranges, pinks, and purples behind the mountain backdrop. Starheart Hollow found many wolves gathering in the center of the meadow- a rather vast land where the Star That Chose to Fall landed. It was a clear day with only a few wispy clouds in the sky, slowly morphing and changing colors with the changing of the time.

Duskbreaker found himself waking from The Dimming, where those of his pack slept before dusk, waking to see the world of stars with wide eyes. His eyes of molten gold and orange opened and his large form pushed its way out of his rather bare den. Outside the den, he stretched his dark legs with great eagerness. He quickly grabbed his Starbone Staff with his maw, and began making his way to where everyone gathered. Yet something was different on this evening.

Duskbreaker looked at his pack up ahead, feeling a loneliness that always seemed to touched his heart. It was not that he was unwelcome. All were welcome here as long as one follows the Starwoven codes. Yet he looked different. Much larger, with a coat more varied than usual. He stuck out, even though there was quite a variety of wolves here. Before he could make it to the group, he feels a heaviness in his limbs. He feels sleepy again, and urge to turn back around. He does so after a moment’s pause, turning to see the sun almost completely set. He drops his staff at his paws as he begins to feel dizzy. His eyes are drawn to the horizon. The moment that dusk broke, and night came, he felt his body fall to the ground with a thud.

He knows not how long the stars were awake before he, too, awoke again. The heaviness he felt slowly lifted off of him. He could only see grass at first. Paws moved under his form and he pushed himself up. He shook his fur out, blinking away the drowsiness as he looked down for his staff. Through desperate eyes, he does not find it amongst the grass. In fact, this grass does not look quite right. Sure, it is grass, but there are different kinds…and this is not the kind he is used too. He tilts his head, and finally looks up. He sees a mountain, but it is not his mountain. Nor do the mountains surround this place. He turns, and sees gaps where mountains should be.

The heart knows when something is wrong. It aches. It screams. He feels a tingle of fear as he looks upwards at the stars, his paws bringing him eagerly forward a few paces. The stars…they are not right. ”There…the Broken Fang remains, fractured, yes — but it still bites into the weave,” he speaks, still seeing the constellation of The Broken Fang, but eyes desperately keep searching. ”But where is she?” he says with broken hope. “Mother’s Eye… the watching star, the quiet witness… She is gone. No thread marks her. No light remembers her shape.” he bows his head, ears falling back as he finds his haunches lowering to the ground, weak. What has happened? It was not his turn yet for The Wandering Rite, at least not according to the elders. But have the stars written their own plans for him?

Soothsayer 1/5

He was consumed with reading the stars. Their stories were altered, or missing completely. There were new stories yet to be told appearing before his eyes as the twilight fell deeper into night. He was completely taken and immersed in figuring out what was happening in the night sky, that he did not pay attention to his surroundings so much. Sure, he noticed that he was no longer in the crater where the star fell, but his mind paid no attention to anything else at the moment.

The air becomes filled with the voice of another. He finds himself startled, his large form of brown, charcoal, and white jolting a bit upwards against his will. It was not a voice from Starheart Hollow. It rang a different tune, from a different place. It was a song yet to be heard, yet to be bound to the sky.

Duskbreaker turned his head around, molten eyes catching the sight of a blood-touched woman. He is certain then, that this is not one of the Starwoven. He had been transported. It was a myth, something only few are chosen for by the stars themselves. He had been Starcasted- the divine summons. As much as disbelief wanted to cling to his heart, he felt an ecstatic joy to be chosen. Such feelings crept their way onto his face through the light in his eyes, and the smile on his face.

He straightens up his form. Chest out. Legs together. Head held mid-way- not high to show disrespect, but not low either. His expression became serious as he cleared his throat. He did not want to mess this up. First impressions of the Starwoven were of upmost importance.

”The Stars read my name as Duskbreaker, child of Starheart Hollow, where the crater remembers fire. If you speak your stars, I will carry them to mine. And in return, I offer stories etched in the bones of the sky,” he said with great gravity, bowing his head slightly. ”By taken, we of the Starwoven would say I have been Starcast here. When the stars whispered your breath, what name did they call you?” he inquired, lifting his head slightly again, ears forward with intent to take in the name of his first encounter.