History

The stars speak.

They whisper in the darkness and beckon restless feet to wander. I can feel the voices of the stars like a siren song, causing my muscles to twitch and my feet to ache. The moon and her pack have clipped a leash to my soul and tug me ever onward without a chance to stop.

I have dream-like memories of hands stroking my back and scratching behind my ears. Human voices whispering things I cannot decipher, but the tone is soft and warm as the crackling fireplace where my blanket used to be.

There are other memories, flashes really, that I cannot explain, and when I reach for them they dart away like a rabbit or snake. There is a voice, neither of the moon or stars, that calls me. When I hear it, my heart aches until I feel I might die.

I could not say why I am here or what my purpose is, but the stars and the moon call me by name. I will go where they lead.