You are not sure when the footsteps stopped following you. Your heartbeat was so strong against your chest and in your head that you did not hear anything else for some time.

But when you raise your gaze towards the sky once again, the first streaks of light are clearing the world and pink clouds hover above your head. Far away. Mother Moon has retreated into her daily abode and your brethren is leaving you alone, one by one.

You bid them one last goodbye, with the promise of rejoining them soon.

The animals of the night have gone to sleep. The owl sleeps soundly in its nest, the rats are nested in their burrows. Life under the sunlight has resumed, and new animals are peeking from their dens.

It makes a tranquil feeling land in your chest, like a pebble falling at the bottom of a gentle river, before it finds its rightful place among many other pebbles. The chaos and noise of the bear are long gone and the birds’ first songs carry your thoughts to safer shores.

It is time for you to stand up. The footsteps have ended and now you are safe, or so you surmise.

You now realize how close to your end you were earlier. The scent of death still lingers on your body and you think how you almost missed this new sunrise that now shines in front of you.

Now you do understand why humans pray to the sky, to feel safe from their worries and fears. You close your eyes, look up, and start praying.

You pray for your safety, you pray for the success of your journey.

You pray, because you are very afraid and without any proper weapons to survive. You pray because you hope to receive help. You pray because you are alone and you want to be heard.

When you finish praying, the smell of death is weaker, and the pebble has found its place in the river’s bed.

It is then that you remember that you haven’t seen the village of the Star Menders yet and you are without any clues to where it is. The forest is vast and you are weak. How can you hope to cross it with your broken wing?

Stars were not made to act. They were made to watch and listen. The unbridled rage that has caught you before is nothing you ever want to feel again. It is against your very nature, against everything you have ever known about yourself and your kin.

Every creature has its own place in the world. Ancestral rules guide them and you follow those rules with the utmost care, like the hidden belt of pathways in the night sky. Creatures cannot stray far from the path. They are bound to return to it, sooner or later.

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And that is why you decide to wait. Crossing the forest is too risky and you cannot allow yourself to learn how to fight. You will watch and wait. You will find a safe place to rest, wait for your wing to heal and return to the skies.

In that way, you won’t even need to find the Star Menders.

A fox's nuzzle comes out from the ground. Should you dig your own burrow, waiting for healing?

You wince. You are a creature of the skies, you do not belong underground. The musky scent of the moss and earth are not to your liking, and the wriggling of worms makes you sick.

A bird flies over your head. Upon the branches it just left sits its nest, the chirping of little chicks erupting from it.

Should you find your own nest amongst the trees? You do share some similarities with the winged creatures, after all. You both are offspring of the sky and amongst the clouds is where you feel the most secure. But you shake your head. Unlike them, you are not small and you do not want to burden a tree more than needed.

You do need a safe nest. Somewhere where you can rest without worries and that can protect you from weather and from beasts.

Old tales whispered among your kin return to your mind. Recounts of tales told by men around the sparkling fires, tales of men who lived in the burrows of the earth. Places where the mountains opened their maws from the ground itself, entrances that offered a glimpse of the mysteries of the world below.

From the tree top, you remember seeing a rock wall. You decide to head into that direction, hoping to find your nest.

The sunlight brings much clarity to the world. The grass bends softly under your step and you notice each line that adorns the bark of the trees you brush with your feathers. Somehow, you also seem to make less noise, but you are also walking more carefully than how you first had done. The black feathers do not help in broad sunlight and you do have to be wary of predators.

You are not sure for how long you have walked, when you reach the rock wall.

And there it is. The place where the ground opens its mouth, the throat of a giant rocky beast is before you.

The cave is dark and kinda smelly, but no worms wriggle in the walls and the scent of earth does not prickle your nose. It is large enough for you and protected from the dangers of the outside world.

This satisfies you. Yes. You decide that this cave will now be your nest, where you will wait for your wing to heal.