The sun has risen ten times, now. From the protection of your new nest, you have watched the sky turn into pale pink and adorn itself in yellows and, slowly, you feel like the cave has become your new home.

You are worried about the wild beasts tracking you down with your scent, so you have gathered different herbs with a strong smell, and laid them around your abode.

You hid in the darkness of the crevice and growled at any animal that dared approach.

You have fed yourself with berries and leaves, and you are content. You have found a balance in the mortal lands and among the earthbound creatures and, for a moment, you think that you will not mind waiting here for your wing to heal.

The wing hurts less, as long as it stays still. You still cannot move it, neither fly. You briefly remember humans used to treat such injuries with mud and sticks a long time ago, before they started using materials unknown to you, but you are afraid you do not possess the skills and dexterity for such a task. So you keep your wing as still as possible.

It is a clear day when the rustling of leaves attracts your attention. You narrow your eyes and raise your ears, attentive. Steps on grass.

They are not beastly. There is no panting accompanying it, no weight. They are calculated, the predator does not want to be perceived.

But you have the upper hand. You slowly crawl in the depths of your cave, making sure to hide the white tips of your wings behind your back.

A figure appears at the entrance. They don’t seem that tall, you are certain you would tower over them, but from their shape you surmise they are human.

You repress an instinctual hiss that threatens to slither out of your beak. Careful watch, that is what you do. Stars are observers, they are not attackers. The bear had attacked you and you defended yourself. This human has not yet done anything.

The figure comes closer, and you squint your eyes. They are definitely human: you have no idea how to discern their exact age, but you understand that they are a young male. His hair is of the color of the grain fields you have seen from the skies, and his eyes share the same color of spring rivers. His body is covered by what you know is known as "clothes", but you cannot tell them apart, a bundle of yellows and browns that you cannot begin to make ends or tails of.

His hands seem to be empty.

What are his intentions? Why has he entered your cave?

The human stops. He turns his head, looking around, and then kneels down. You dare not even breathe, lying in the shadows as the human looks around.

Then he stops. His bright eyes are wide in the darkness. He seems surprised.

He mutters words you do not understand, but the feelings are clear to you, like in all the prayers you've heard.

He has found you.

The emotions behind his words do not betray his thoughts: he is surprised to see you, but he is also glad that he has found you.

You move back, startled. Glad?

He mutters new words, words you still cannot understand, but the sense of curiosity is clear. He is curious about you. Not wary, not scared, nor aggressive.

Just curious.

You do not sense any malice from him. His feelings are genuine.

Humanity’s curiosity has always been fascinating to you. It was what led children to bring their hands close to the danger of fire or led adults to places unknown. You have observed humans delving in their curiosity for most of your life, for you always found it endearing. Curiosity destroyed every barrier that existed: under its gaze, a predator would become a source of interest, danger would turn into an opportunity to grow.

What are you to this child, you wonder?

You remember a story whispered among your kin. You were never sure if it was true, but according to it, a human child had befriended a star.

The little child had lost himself in the forest and a star guided him home, following the instructions of Mother Moon.

Does this human know this story, too?

But it does not matter. Friendship between a star and a human is one of a kind. It is not supposed to exist. Earthbound creatures and skybound creatures do not mingle. You do not wish to disrupt the natural course of life: you have always abided by the ancestral laws, and you will continue to do so.

The human must leave.

You slowly rise up, letting the white tips of your wings flash in the darkness, your white eyes big and wide, like the moon they take from.

The kid seems to be in awe at your appearance, before happiness makes him smile.

Wait.

Happiness?

Predators make themselves look bigger to intimidate their prey. Different smaller creatures use similar tactics to scare off dangerous animals. You have seen them quite often, from the sky.

What are you doing wrong? Why is he so ecstatic?

You kneel down, to meet him at eye level. He is not scared. He is very happy to meet you. He is so happy that his hands are trembling and his eyes are quivering.

You tilt your head in confusion. You knew that children of men were impressionable beings, able to find happiness in the tiniest specks of reality, but this surpasses all your expectations.

He speaks again, but you do not understand. He is inquisitive, he probably asked you a question.

You look at him, eyes fixed.

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The boy's eyes are wide, as his lips curl into a round shape. Then he seems to ponder about something, chin on his hand, before jumping. He shows your hand at you and runs outside the cave. You follow him to the entrance, to make sure he goes away.

He does not.

He returns soon after, holding a fallen branch in his hand. He looks at you, bouncing on his feet, and begins dragging the branch into the soft ground in front of your cave.

The movements are familiar. Humans would depict things in lines: sometimes things that existed, other times things that did not. You always thought they were similar to words, somehow: even if you could not understand them, you could perceive the feelings behind them.

But the human you just met isn't capable like the ones you've seen depicting things in lines. His hand isn't steady and his lines are not good. You can barely make out what he is trying to depict.

It is a shape with five points. Next to it, there is an arrow that points upwards. And finally, there is a small dot with a squiggly line on top of it, similar to a snake.

You look at the human.

He seems frustrated, pouting, and then he points at the sky. You look up. The sun has risen and the sky now holds its natural blue color. A few clouds roll by, undisturbed.

The boy points at you, and then back at the five-pointed figure he depicted on the ground. Is that... supposed to be you?

You now remember. Children would often depict your kind in such a manner. You furrow your brow. Is he asking if you come from the sky?

You point to your chest, nod, and point upwards. You are a star, where else would you come from?

The boy is ecstatic, gasping for breath and clapping his hands. For a moment, it seems like he is also glowing like you in the night sky.

Then his face darkens, and raises his gaze a bit. It seems like he's trying to look behind you. You turn your head, but the cave is empty.

When you turn back, he is pointing under his shoulders. You tilt your head in confusion. He points at his body again. Does he want you to check his back?

With careful steps you approach him, but he retreats, eyes wide. You startle back. You are confused. Why doesn’t this human leave and let you heal your wing in peace?

But instead he points at his back again, and drags the branch on the ground, depicting the dot with the squiggly line on top again.

You shake your head, your patience is near its limit. You walk back into your cave and sit down, looking at him with the most irritated expression you can mutter.

He doesn't seem to get it, his eyes seem sad, similar to when the humans would lose their dear friends and wail about them to the skies.

You do not like to see humans like that.

Then, looking at you in the eyes without the hint of fear, he stretches his hand towards your side. Your eyes dart from his hand to his face: he doesn't stop looking at you, as his hand approaches your wing.

You pull it back a little. He points at the wing, and then back at his back, muttering words you do not understand.

But the feelings are once again clear: he is worried about you.

Is he asking to see your wings? Has he noticed the injured one?

You shake your head. Finally, he relaxes. For a moment, it seems like he is taking his leave, but instead he picks up the branch from the ground and starts depicting things on the dirt again.

You huff, looking at them.

These ones are shaky, but as he goes on, they become clearer. Your eyes go wide, as you get closer.

You do recognize these signs. The Tribe of the Star Menders would decorate their observatories with such symbols, as a way to worship the natural deities of the night, the Moon and the stars like yourself. They were intricate designs depicting flowers and natural elements. The Menders thought your kin couldn't see such things during your nightly journeys, so they’d show them to you this way. Truth to be told, you all could see them, even at night, but you did appreciate the gesture.

The kid is copying the same symbols and then he looks at you. He points at himself, before pointing down at the symbol again, and then at you.

He is not a Star Mender, there is no doubt about that. They wear white feathers, as a way to honor the old pact that they held with the stars after they fought against the Star Hunters to defend your kin’s sacred lots of land, where they later built their villages. And this kid wears none, in the tangled mess of clothes on his body.

He is waiting for something. For you to do something. You are not sure what it is that he wants. You do not know where Star Menders dwell.

He extends his hand. You look at it, uncertain. He points back at the symbol again, before pointing at himself.

Realization hits you. Does he know where the Star Menders dwell?

According to the old pact, Star Menders would heal any fallen star that would end up in the mortal lands. They could definitely help you.

You point at him, then back at the symbol. He nods.

There is no malice in his look, in his eyes. Is he genuine? Why does he want to help you?

From beyond the sky, where you come from, you've had the opportunity to see humanity in all their facets. Humans helped those who were less fortunate and those who actually didn't need any help, but were still provided support. Humans helped other creatures too – just like Star Menders do – so you know that some of them can be trusted.

But you also saw how humans could deceive and hate one another. You saw it all.

The boy is waiting for your answer. He seems hopeful. You catch the glint of a prayer in his eyes. He wants you to help him. He wants to help you.

You two could be helping one another, if you were to accept.

You do not know how you would be helping him, but he seems eager to.

Going to the Star Menders would be ideal, they would speed up the recovery of your wing, and that'd mean less waiting in the mortal lands. Also, going with a human would mean you would not be alone anymore, meaning more chances to survive from the wild beasts and humans alike.

But you would need to be careful. Can the human be trusted? And the Star Hunters could still be following your trail, after all.

You look at the human again. You stand up, and nod.