He came into the world under a canopy of shining stars, and so his mother named him Starlight. She wanted him to know light in the darkness, so she gave him a name that would be his beacon.
It was just the two of them right from the start, but the little Star was never left wanting for love. Mama gave more than enough of that all on her own. With no one else to do the work, Mama spent much of her time hunting, which meant baby Star was left to his own company more often than not. Mama kept him in their den beneath the roots of a great tree and made him promise to stay put until she returned. As long as he stayed in the den, the Bristleback moehogs wouldn't find him, or so Mama liked to tell him.
"The Bristleback clan roam the mountain," Mama warned, "and they eat everything. Those hogs won't think twice about snapping up a little pup for dinner. Which is why you've got to stay put, alright?"
Star didn't yet know what a moehog was, but he knew he had no business being anybody's dinner. However, as the days carried on and Star grew more and more rambunctious, curiosity began to get the best of him. And so little Star often found himself wandering about the familiar shadows of those dark woods, dancing in and out of the dappled sunlight peaking through the thick canopy. He favorite place to spend the day was at the top of the ridge, where he would lie flat on the rocks and peer down into the valley below.
There were other lupes down there- a whole pack of them, in fact. Star spent long afternoons watching from afar and wondering what it would be like to live among them. He imagined himself playing with the other pups as they frolicked in the soft spring grass. Living on the mountainside with Mama was wonderful, of course, but he longed to romp and wrestle with the other pups. They'd make fast friends, he was sure of it.
"How come we don't live with the other lupes?" Star asked when Mama returned from her hunt one evening.
"They live down there, and we live up here. That's just how it is," she told him, a gentle smile on her face.
"How come they don't come up on the mountain with us?"
"They could, if they wanted to," Mama said. "I guess they just don't want to."
"And how come we don't go down there in the valley with them?"
"Well, because we live up here." She said that as if it made perfect sense, but Star still didn't understand.
But while Star was growing bigger and stronger, Mama was growing thinner. She spent more time out hunting, but she came back with less and less. And she was always so, so tired.
"How come you didn't bring any food for yourself?" he asked.
"I'm not very hungry," Mama said, and she gave him a soft smile as she lay down between the roots to rest.
But she was so thin, and she was so tired.
One morning, she didn't get up to go hunt. Instead, she lay right down in the dirt and rested her head on her paws, breathing heavily.
"Mama?"
She smiled up at Star weakly. "My poor Starlight, my lonely Star. I thought I could keep you all by myself, but that's no way for a lupe to live, is it?" She couldn't even lift her head to look at him.
Star ran to her side and used his little body to try and help her up onto her paws, but she was simply too weak. He tried and he tried to rouse her, but Mama would not move.
"Go down to the valley, love," she whispered, and closed her eyes.
"I can't go there without you," Star whimpered, and he curled up next to his mother. He begged and he pleaded with her to come with him, but Mama needed to rest. She was so tired. She had worked so hard.
His mother would not wake up again.
Star stayed with her all day and all night, but she would not wake up. He buried his face in her soft white fur and stayed with her even as her warmth began to fade away.
When the weak morning sun trickled down through the forest canopy, Star heard footfall in the pine straw. He blinked the tears from his eyes only to find himself face to face with an enormous monster. It had a head bigger than his entire body, with razor-sharp tusks and a mane of black fur all along its back.
A moehog. A Bristleback.
"Youngster, you'd best go along your way, join up with your own kind," the old boar said. His voice was low and dry, like summer thunder.
Star cowered back and stared at the moehog's teeth as he spoke. They were jagged and fiercesome, perfectly built for chewing on sad little pups.
"I- I can't," he whimpered. "I can't leave without my mama."
"Go on and git," the boar told him gruffly. "Nothing much she can do for you anymore, but she can still feed my family."
"She's my Mama!" Star wailed, and he cowered against her limp form.
"Your mama ain't comin' back, which means she's a meal for my kin. And unless you go and git, you're fixin' to be as well." The boar used his enormous skull to give Star a firm shove, which sent the little pup tumbling back, away from where his mother lay.
Star ran further than he'd ever ran, well outside the familiar tract of wood that still had his mother's scent. The mountain slope got much steeper, and he nearly tumbled head over heels as he began his descent toward the valley. Every step needed his attention, lest he skid into a freefall. But finally, Star once again found himself on firm ground. The morning sun had slid all the way across the sky, and long afternoon shadows drew across the soft green grass. He was exhausted, he was hungry, and worst of all, there was a terrible pain in his heart. With tears still rolling down his cheeks, Star meekly approached the gathered lupe pack.
He had spent so many of his days watching the Northridge pack that he'd almost forgotten that they didn't know who he was. No matter what he'd imagined, they were still strangers. But they would be his friends soon, surely, and they'd be able to help. There had to be something they could do to help him, to help his Mama. They could all go back up the ridge together, and chase off the Bristleback moehogs, and... And...
They watched him approach with cold, wary eyes. The pups, who had been prancing and playing just moments before, now ran to cower behind the legs of their parents. They stared back at him, eyes wide with fear, as if Star was some sort of horrible beast. The big lupes stood at the ready, putting themselves between Star and their pups. But why? What was going on?
"Why have you come off the mountain, pup?" It was the alpha who spoke, Oleg the One-Eyed.
"I- I need help. My Mama, she- She's not-" Star's words tumbled out. He looked from face to face, but all he saw was disgust and fear. "I don't know what to do..." The tears burned his eyes and the world blurred together.
"You're no Northridger. There's no place for you here," Oleg said simply, his face twisted into a grim snarl.
"Please," Star begged, "Mama said to come and find you..! Mama said... Please, I'm all alone and I- I don't know what to do!"
The one-eyed alpha did not say another word, he just glowered down at Star as if he were a lowly worm in the dirt.
Star felt like he'd been struck. He ran back into the woods as fast as his little legs could carry him, unable to bear any more of it. The night that came was long and cold, and no matter how hard he stared up through the canopy, no starlight shined back.
No one ever taught Star how to hunt, so he had to teach himself. It was a lot harder than it looked, since it turned out no one was particularly keen to become someone else's dinner. He tried his share of running and pouncing, but he didn't have an awful lot of luck in the beginning. So instead, he found himself creeping down into the valley night after night, using the cover of darkness to eat the scraps of game that the Northridge pack couldn't finish. Meanwhile, as the Bristleback clan began to take up more of the mountainside, they left behind plenty of scraps themselves. However, the moehogs were even less patient with a scrawny little scavenger skulking about than the Northridgers were, so Star quickly learned not to push his luck too far with the Bristlebacks.
But the bigger he got, the harder it became to slink around unnoticed, and so Star spent more and more of his time learning the art of the hunt. He wasn't quite as swift as the other lupes, but his long legs gave him a powerful stride, and his persistence began to pay off.
Hunting was a lonely affair, and Star quickly came to realize how hard his mother must have worked to bring back prey for her pup. Down in the valley, the Northridgers hunted as a pack, each lupe playing a role in bringing down big game like ixi and kaus. For a single lupe to chase down even small game was a burden indeed, and there were more than a few nights that Star went to sleep on an empty stomach.
Perhaps if he wasn't so big and ungainly. He was easily twice the size of the other lupes, with a hunch in his neck and monstrous saber teeth that seemed to give him a permanent snarl. While their paws were sleek and nimble, built for the chase, his own were massive and weighed down by heavy claws. And those four eyes still blinked back at him in the rain puddles. There wasn't another lupe on that entire mountain who looked like he did. There were days when Star wondered if he was even a lupe at all, or something else entirely.
And yet, in spite of everything, Star came into his own. No longer the desperate little pup living by the skin of his teeth, he had become a truly enormous presence on the mountainside. Still, he had to share that territory with the robust Bristleback population, and so Star spent his days skulking through shadows and scaling stony ridges. It would not have been hard to invite himself down into the valley where a more comfortable living awaited, and it was unlikely that any Northridger would be keen to remove him by force. Even so, Star was loath to go somewhere he wasn't invited.
The only problem for the pack was the slow encroachment of the Bristleback clan. The moehogs were gaining in numbers, and it seemed they were far less reserved than Star was at the idea of moving into the lush valley. Star could only watch on from his perch as the two groups began to clash. Slowly at first, but the tensions were clearly building, and a peaceful end to the matter seemed less and less likely.
In the midst of all of this, Star did his best to stay out of sight and out of mind. He kept to his little tract of the mountain and out of anybody else's business. However, it seemed even this was not enough, because somebody noticed him.
It began as an unfamiliar scent. Another lupe, he was certain of it. Someone was lurking around those dark woods, and they were going to great lengths to keep even more hidden than Star kept himself. He felt this presence for days, always just out of sight and out of earshot. But he would wake up to find that the scraps of his hunt were dragged away and picked clean. As he followed a drag track through the pine straw, Star couldn't help but think back to his younger days, when he would hold his breath and creep in to pick at a carcass the Bristlebacks left behind.
And then, one day, they came face to face.
The stranger stared him down, as if he expected Star to charge him.
"I'm just passing through," he said, his voice low and rough like tree bark. "I've no interest in staying on these lands." The anger in his words nearly hid the fear.
"You won't get far, in your state," Star told him.
"I've gotten this far already," the Stranger snapped. They both knew those words were hollow.
That night, Star shared the fruits of his hunt with the lupe who called himself Spitfire. But, true to his word, Spitfire took what he could carry and quickly retreated into the darkness. He did not trust Star for one second, and Star could only be so upset about it. He knew who he was, he knew what he looked like. No lupe in their right mind would trust him to have peaceful intentions, much less a lupe who was dangling by a thread.
And yet, his scent had not faded by morning. Spitfire was still there, just out of sight. Again, Star offered him food. And again, Spitfire took the offering and hobbled off. They did this over and over, day after day. And each day, Spitfire lingered for just a bit longer before he disappeared into the brush for the night.
"It's good to have some company," Star said.
"I'll be moving on soon," Spitfire reminded him. "I just need to regain my strength."
"Do you have someone expecting you?"
No answer.
That night, for the first time, Spitfire didn't retreat into the woods. The two lupes curled up near each other in the clearing, hardly friends but certainly not enemies. For someone like Star, that was as much as he could hope for.
It wasn't long before Star brought Spitfire to the ridge so they could watch the goings-on in the valley together. Spitfire was hardly impressed with the Northridge pack, and even less so when he heard of how they outcasted Star.
"It's hard to take it personally. I was never one of them, I'd have just been another mouth to feed."
Spitfire scoffed at this. "I'd find it very easy to take it personally."
"I think they're good at heart. They're very loyal to each other, very protective," Star said.
"That's a miserably low standard," Spitfire told him. "Every lupe pack in the world is loyal to its own. For as long as it benefits them, anyway… I guess they didn't think you'd be any benefit to them, what with… Well, with the way you are."
"They were afraid of me," Star said simply. "And they still are."
They continued on this way for many more days. Slowly but surely, Spitfire's pelt began to fill out. His ribs no longer showed, and he didn't need to sleep quite as often. His appetite was hearty, and it wasn't long before he became restless.
In fact, he was the one to suggest it. "We could hunt together."
And so they devised a plan. Spitfire would spook out prey with his loud and clumsy gait and drive them to where Star hid in wait. With his size and ungainly stride, the art of the pursuit was still something that eluded Star. Ambush, however, came far easier. He would leap from the brush and strike with his massive claws, then deliver the deathblow to his prey with his saber fangs. The whole sordid affair was over in half the time it took to hunt game by himself, and then the pair were fed for a day or more. That afforded them ample time to lounge about and enjoy the sunshine. And of course, it meant plenty of time to watch the goings-on in the valley.
Old Oleg had crept off in the darkness to spend his final night the way that so many old lupes did: Quietly and with the same sort of dignity that he lived the rest of his life. And it was as the Northridge pack was mourning their fallen alpha that the moehogs decided that change begot change. Star and Spitfire were watching on the day that the Bristlebacks came down from the mountain slope in force.
The moehogs and lupes descended upon each other, stomping and snarling and tearing away pieces of each other. Star could only watch on in silent horror from his distant perch, helpless to stop the carnage.
Timo lay in a crumpled heap, his once-white fur now stained rusty red. He was joined by another, and another. The Northridge pack never stood a chance. They were badly outnumbered, and a lupe's only strength against a fully-sized moehog was in numbers. Without that, they were meat. Realizing this, the remnants of the pack who were not yet maimed turned and ran. The Bristlebacks, still overtaken by the fury of battle, followed close behind with hooves stamping and tusks swinging.
And that was it. That was the end of the Northridge pack, who for generations were the stewards of that mountain valley. All that was left was limp bodies and blood on the grass. And, knowing what he knew about those moehogs, Star was sure even that would soon be gone.
"I can't believe it."
Spitfire gave him an odd look. "What's not to believe? That ended exactly the way I expected it to end."
"It's just- it's such a shame."
"I don't know why you were so attached to them," Spitfire scoffed. "They didn't care one lick if you lived or died. Why should you?"
Even though Star didn't have an answer to that, he couldn't ignore the heaviness in his heart. The Northridgers were the closest thing he'd ever had to a pack, even though they very explicitly did not feel the same about him. Even being able to look in from the outside was better than having nothing at all. Now, if not for Spitfire, he would be completely and truly alone. The only lupe on the mountain. The idea was crushing in its loneliness.
Star huddled close to Spitfire that night, desperate to feel warm fur against his face.
Star was the one to find them. Three little pups, huddled together and shivering in that old den between the roots of the great tree. The poor things were terrified and all alone, and Star's heart ached at the sight of them. But when a twig snapped beneath his paw, he saw each of them abruptly turn to face his direction. Star's dark coat kept him hidden in the heavy shadows, but they knew he was there. He could see the fear in their eyes. They bunched in even closer and trembled uncontrollably.
He imagined it: An enormous four-eyed beast stepping out of the shadows and right toward them. He'd have looked just as inviting as the blood-drenched tusks of a Bristleback boar. No, he couldn't approach them outright. And so, Star turned and crept away, a new idea taking shape as he retreated.
"Where are you taking that?"
Star let the question hang in the air as he dragged the meat back through the woods. He left it just out of sight from the pups' den, close enough that they'd be able to smell it. The forlorn little creatures would have trouble bringing down a tigermouse between the three of them, much less anything substantial to eat. The leg that Star left would only last so long, but they wouldn't go hungry. Not yet, at least.
"You're feeding them?" Spitfire asked incredulously.
"Why wouldn't I?"
"Well they're not yours, for one thing. And for another, you already know they wouldn't lose any sleep leaving you for dead, if the roles were reversed. You know this, they already did."
"Their parents did," Star corrected.
"And those pups won't be any different," Spitfire snapped. "What do you think is going to happen? That they'll be grateful? That they'll love you for this?" Spitfire rose to his feet. Each sentence came out louder and louder, until he was shouting. "Will you take them in? Will they call you father? Or are they going to take one look at you and think you're a monster?"
Star stared his companion down. "That's not what this is about," he said.
Spitfire pinned his ears back. "Then what is it about?"
"They need help," Star said slowly. Firmly. "I'm helping them."
"HELP!"
"Fine. Then I'm doing it for me," Star said.
Spitfire shook his head and settled back into the grass. "I don't understand you," he sighed.
"I'll only take from my share of the game," Star said. "You won't be going hungry."
"I certainly hope not."
And Star stuck to his word. Every day, he ate a little less than his fill, and then he carefully dragged a piece of the carcass through the brush to the pups' den. They cowered every time they heard him approach. Maybe it was his scent, or maybe they'd caught a glimpse of him through the shadows after all, but that fear simply never left their eyes.
Thankfully though, they ate everything he left them. He often went to sleep with nagging hunger pains in his belly, but he came back to bones picked clean. And every day, those pups looked just a little bit bigger, just a little bit stronger.
They had each other, and that was the most important part, Star told himself. They may have been lost, but they would never be alone, not in the way that he had been alone. That was what mattered. All he did was feed them, all he did was make sure they would have a chance on their own.
No one had helped him, but he could still help them.
When the days grew short and the frost crept up on quiet paws, the three pups were no longer the lonesome little babes he first saw shivering in his old den. They were gangly things that chased cybunnies and beekadoodles when they didn't know they were being watched. It was hard not to feel proud the first time he saw one of the pups trotting about with a tattered ball of blue feathers in her mouth.
In spite of everything, they were going to make it.
And then, one day, they were gone. All they left behind was three sets of prints in the morning frost, three sets of prints leading east toward the rising sun. They would not return, because this mountain was no longer theirs. The valley belonged to the Bristlebacks now, and the mountain slopes were a place for a lupe to survive, but not to thrive. The fate of the Northridge remnants lay elsewhere, and that was for the best.
"And there they go," Spitfire sighed, thoroughly unimpressed. "Not a word of thanks for all that work you did."
"I'll endure," Star assured him. "Gratitude would be nice, but that's not why I did what I did."
Spitfire rolled his eyes. "Noble of you."
"And what about you? You've got places to be, I'm sure. No interest in staying on these lands, if I recall."
At that, Spitfire gave Star a curious look. "I've given it some thought," he said after a long silence. "I've done enough traveling for the time being. It's not as easy as it used to be, with my leg the way that it is. I think it would be better for me to stay here. For now, at least."
"I certainly appreciate the company," Star said simply.
The nights were growing longer and colder, and soon there would be snow again. But it wouldn't be quite so cold with someone to cuddle up with. Those long nights wouldn't be quite so dark with a friend by his side. The pair of them curled up together as the sun sank behind the distant mountain ridge. Star felt Spitfire's head rest upon his back.
"Thank you, by the way," he whispered, already on the edge of sleep.
The stars above had never shone brighter.
Name: Starlight675
Nickname: Star
Gender: Male
Species: Lupe, possible hybrid
Color: Mutant
Age: Adult
Birthday: 5th day of Awakening
Build: Massive, hulking
Personality: Quiet, lonely, introspective
Sloppy
Quiet
Lazy
Serious
Mean
Quiet
Lazy
Serious
Mean
■■■■■□□□□□
■□□□□□□□□□
■■■■■■■□□□
■■□□□□□□□□
■■■■■■■■■■
■□□□□□□□□□
■■■■■■■□□□
■■□□□□□□□□
■■■■■■■■■■
Neat
Outgoing
Active
Playful
Nice
Outgoing
Active
Playful
Nice
Star lives a simple life and enjoys simple pleasures. He and his companion have full reign of the northern slope of the mountain, and so their territory is vast. Like with the old Northridge pack, Star holds no grudges against the Bristleback moehogs, as he believes that they are simply doing what needs to be done for the welfare of their clan. These days, the two sides rarely ever cross paths, so tensions are low on the mountain.
Rarer still do any travellers pass through Star's woods, but he's always eager to meet a potential new friend. His size and unusual appearance are more than enough to scare away most, but he's a very generous host to anyone brave enough to accept his hospitality. He has no qualms going well out of his way to assist someone in need, especially the loners and outcasts of the world.
Spitfire is a three-legged lupe with a quick temper and a sour attitude. These things are probably related. He doesn't speak about his past much at all, and the reason he lost his leg and left his old pack seem like especially touchy subjects.
A self-styled loner, he still chooses to spend all of his time with Star, with the reasoning that the two of them can be alone together. He chalks Star's kind and forgiving nature up to naivete, although he's secretly very appreciative to have someone to put up with him. Not that he'd ever admit to that out loud, of course.
(hover to enlarge)
Reference
(thank you!!!)
Trade with Tawreh (garinawk)
Higher resolution of Farren (farren1)'s amazing adoptable (link out below)
Adoptables
customs only / trades only - neomail me
example
Art gallery coding cannibalized from Nex
Character, art, story, etc by me
As inspired by Growlsar
This page was created as part of the
Sparkledog Enthusiasts Summer '25 bootcamp
