As Sol crept closer to the horizon, I awoke from my restless slumber. My head was still wound in vines, a tangled jumble of thoughts and questions. Each time I tore through their bindings, closing my eyes for a second of sleep, another wrapped around my throat to suffocate me.

With a huff of defeat, I emerged from the cave for some fresh, nighttime air. I gazed up at Luna's flower of light, rooted in the clouds, her children dotting the sky around it. The moon shone with all her glowing petals.

The ground was cold and still. All that filled the air was the quiet chirp of crickets. The trees swayed in the distance, adding to the serene song of midnight.

I nearly fell sideways when something scraped across the earth. It fell from the rocky incline behind me, and drew my nose with a jerking glance. It was just a small stone, dislodged by the wind. I coughed out the breath stuck in my throat and gave my heart a moment to still.

I wasn't used to the silence. Gone were the pups' rowdy voices and Cloud's soft laugh. Mist's thoughtful sighs were nowhere to be heard.

I was alone. And honestly, it frightened me.

What scared me even more was the thought of this becoming my reality. Each night on my own, in the icy grip of the moonlight without so much as a warm exhale to call my companion. I'd always be vulnerable, always be wary and untrusting of my surroundings. I'd have no wolf to help me hunt or share in my spoils. And when I died, no wolf would bury my corpse. Scavengers would carry away my flesh in their bellies before it could join the dirt, and Sol would never grow flowers from my body. I only hoped my star would make it to Luna in a single piece.

Pine's words swirled in my head: my family was looking for me. I had an ache in my stomach, a gut feeling that said they weren't.

That they were lost too.

My ears perked at a couple barks in the distance. I limped to the edge of the clearing, and four pairs of eyes stared back. A single white frame walked between the shadows, while several limp forms hung from each wolf's mouth.

Joy touched her face as softly as the moonlight, and Cloud met my eyes through the darkness. Her gaze fell as quickly as she saw me, focusing instead on each steady footstep up the incline. Spruce trotted ahead of her, caring little for where he placed his paws. His scowl peered up at me, never faltering.

I licked my nose and backed from the edge, pretending I hadn't noticed either of them. Maybe Spruce had a reason to be bitter, but I didn't understand Cloud's sudden distance.

Ever since the creek, she'd been acting strangely. I cursed to myself for ever thinking––for letting my stupidity ruin the one good relationship I thought I had. I didn't even know what happened. Like always.

They trudged the rest of the way up the hill, jaws hooked around the pelts of several large rodents and shares, before depositing their prey in front of Mist's rock. They gathered before her just as the night before, and I joined the edge of the crescent-shape, watching their alpha settle on the other side. Like always, she was first to select her food from the pile––this time it was a few gray-furred, tree-clingers.

I kept my gaze on the ground as Cloud chose her meal. So far I'd ignored the anxious paws beneath my chin, urging it upward to see if Cloud ever looked back at me. I didn't want to know.

From my peripherals, I watched Spruce march proudly to the center. A smirk graced his muzzle, and his tail swayed with each step. He stopped with a firm plant of his paws, and reached down to place his teeth around his food. He was more subtle with his taunt, but the arrogance pricked my fur all the same.

Pine cocked her head and slipped out a mostly inaudible groan. "We get it already..." she mouthed. Her eyes cut sideways to meet me with a grin.

When my turn came, I stood quickly, and strode up to the remaining prey with my own sense of pride. Maybe my actions weren't as impressive––I hadn't caught anything, meal-worthy or otherwise, but I couldn't help but feel a beam of warmth glowing in my heart. The day had been a success. I'd walked more in a morning than I'd even thought possible, and here I was now, taking my meal without a trembling step.

I chose the pair of rabbits that were left. One was brown like the forest floor, fat and plump down to its dandelion tail. The other was small and scrawny. Tufts of white still clung to its back, the remains of its winter coat that would never be shed, while the tawny brown of spring bristled just underneath.

A simple thing like color made it different from its brother. It spent more time cowering in fear than feasting, worried predators would see its lack of camouflage, singling it out for its weakness.

The other rabbit didn't have a care in the world, rounding his belly till the day he died. He was careless because he was just like the rest of them. Why kill him, over the other thousands of other rabbits in the forest? He had no reason to be scared.

But the white one... terror still filled his tiny, beaded eyes. He didn't want to die––not for something he couldn't change. Maybe he had a family. Siblings. A mate, even kits at home.

He was so close to being normal. So close to living a wonderful, fulfilling life, before he was coldly ripped to shreds by reality.

Mist cleared her throat. With a flinch, I realized I was still standing in the center, the two rabbits hanging limply in my jaws. I swallowed a lump of saliva, stepping backward to my place. Setting my prey at my paws, I blinked away the water in my eyes, and quickly lifted my muzzle back to the alpha.

She cleared her throat, gathering the eyes of each wolf. "Sometimes the stars guide us down unfamiliar trails." Her tone rose with enthusiasm, and her eyes sparkled beneath those very stars. "Sometimes they're good, sometimes they're bad. But there's one thing we can't change..." Her eyes drifted over her pack, until finally, they landed on me. "Uncertainty."

My ears stood taller at the unfamiliar start to her meal-time speech. Mist's gaze clung to mine. I couldn't draw my focus away––the strength brewing in her deep, dark pupils made my heart shudder. But there was something else there too. A familiar sliver of pain.

"Every wolf walks a path," she continued. "Sometimes it turns, often it twists, and occasionally, they cross." With a sigh, Mist's face grew solemn. "Eventually, they end."

A chill bared its claws on my spine. Each word held a certain, striking power that I couldn't turn away from. They told of something morbid, but her tone spoke of death as if it were only normal––like there was nothing wrong with it.

She shook her head just slightly, and sighed through the smile. "If Luna had only three more words with her mate, she would've said, 'I love you,'" she alpha uttered, as if she were saying them herself, to her pack. Maybe to her own, lost mate. "But they would mean so much more. They would say, 'Don't cry. Don't regret. Because not a moment of my life was spent in vain, knowing that someone loved me, too.'"

My head swirled with more confusion. Was this her way of telling me my time was up? That if I died now, it would be okay––because someone loved me in the past? I would never know if that were true.

"If a lost soul made their way into my pack," she said, her eyes drifting to the sky instead of me. "If he were missing what it felt like to be loved, what kind of wolf would I be if I let him stay?"

My heart took off in a sprint, pounding in my ears so hard and fast it would surely burst. This was it.

"A wolf of the earth might say weak. Soft. Sorry." She let out a chuckle. "A sorry excuse for a leader."

Warm anger tugged at my muzzle. If she was going to kick me out, she should just do it already. Why throw stones at a wolf who was already bruised? Why not just let me enjoy this final meal in peace?

"But Luna would say otherwise." This time, she hummed sweetly. "She would remind me that all her stars were born as equals, that they all deserve the same chance at life, happiness, and love––no matter the flesh and bones that surrounds it."

Mist grinned cruelly, her lips poised to say that I was the one case that differed, that I had already wasted my chance. I wouldn't get another.

"What kind of wolf would I be, if I turned him away?"

My jaws unclenched. The heat in my face dissipated as quickly as it came, and my eyes widened, searching her face for any glint of mock or amusement.

"That's why I'm inviting our guest," she said, lowering her muzzle with a contented smile, "a place in our pack. Permanently."

Her pale green irises held nothing but sincerity. My tongue twisted in question, and my mouth fell agape.

She raised a brow. "Assuming, that is what you want?"

All that left my throat was a sputtering attempt at speech. I didn't know what to say, what to ask. Why had she changed her mind now? Things were different than when Cloud first introduced me. It wasn't because I'd had any time to heal, because I hadn't––it was because Mist was given a perfect chance to see my uselessness in action.

What could I offer to her pack? Nothing. Except for maybe more problems.

Her understanding gaze hushed my mind. "I know what I said before," she admitted, "but it's spring and the woodland prey are plentiful." She used her nose to point to each wolf's meal, though each was hardly a lot. "We can stay here in the forest without too much inconvenience. And you've shown that you aren't too far from regaining your own mobility."

I nodded, keeping my muzzle from curling at the bitter taste in the back of my throat. It still didn't add up.

I shifted my sight to the left. Pine grinned, and a sympathetic joy twinkled in her eyes. Her tail gave a wag. Spruce only glared at the ground, like he was picturing his fangs around a certain someone's throat.

And Cloud. She lifted her gaze as I forced my eyes to search her face. Her lips curved in a half-hearted smile, while her bottom jaw quivered with a certain hesitance. Maybe Spruce's words had finally sunk in, and she decided that he was right. Being kind to me was a waste of time.

I couldn't be sure that this was what I wanted. I was thankful for the time I had here to heal––I still needed more time. But did I really want to spend more than I had to with these wolves?

Pine seemed friendly enough, but did I really want the only thing she thought of me to always be pity? How much of Spruce could I put up with, and how long would go by before he had a chance to hurt me? Did I want to cower at Mist's mercy as I struggled my way along for months? Never knowing if the kindness was truly real, or if the day would come where I finally outgrew her patience?

I'd already made something awkward with one of them. Did I want to risk growing closer to wolves that had no loyalty in their emotions––who would never find a wolf like me worthy as even a packmate? Much less, a friend...

Then there was my past to think about. Did agreeing to stay mean leaving behind any possibility of ever finding them? My home? What if I never grew used to it here, always wondering what life I'd left behind? There was a chance I'd never find it anyway, that I'd die the day I stepped out into the wild. There was an even smaller possibility that I would find my home here.

I jerked a jagged claw through my thoughts, through all the questions. I should've been grateful for the opportunity, for a safe place to rest my head, food to fill my belly, and wolves to watch my back. But a new word lingered in my mind. It tugged at every thought, every broken memory, forcing a shadowed haze over everything I didn't know.

Uncertainty.

I took a deep breath, letting my eyes drift to the moon, glowing round and full in the sky. "Thank you..." I breathed. But I couldn't.

Her voice drifted back to me. "Life is fleeting, but it doesn't mean we can't start again. Just like her flower blooms over and over, we know that light always lives on in another blossom."

Closing my eyes, I saw my mother's warm, brown irises. Her gray fur tickled mine as she wrapped her muzzle around my neck.

"Just like a star, you will always glow brightly. The wolves around you will always look up and remember the way you shone in their hearts. You'll never burn out, for the stars connect us all."

Her whisper faded as a faint woof filled the air. Mist stared down with a question on her muzzle. "Do you have a decision?"

Maybe I didn't know what would happen. I might never know what I left behind. But no matter what came next, I would face each uncertainty with my head held high. Their glow lived on in my heart, and they were with me every step of the way.

"Yes."