Some familiars are discreet things, others not. Sometimes they’re born or hatched markedly different from their siblings, and for myself, those marks were my stars.

Stars come and go across my pelt, so slowly as to not be noticed, making patterns, constellations, flashing silver and gold. I have no idea what it means, but my mage Luna does. When she spied me in the mass of my litter mates she almost shrieked with joy, knowing that I was hers, and she was mine.

She’s all grown up now, and wouldn’t you know it, we work as star-readers to the greats, from royals to actors, great studiers to musicians. Apparently my stars mean a lot to many people, and they like to pat them for luck.

I still don’t know what they mean, but I guess I don’t need to know.