[SE] we counted galaxies

Amalia Rivulets of air streaming from small nostrils, the otter continues to dive and pursue, bright happiness and eager curiosity coursing through Attuned accords. There is no small admiration among the mischief, her eyes ever lingering on his sleek and defined form, awed and impressed by the ease with which he maneuvers through the embrace of the sea. Now at last she sees what he has always said: that he is a son of the tides and swells, offspring of the ocean, built for sand and surf. Returning to the surface of the water Amalia flips onto her back, floating comfortably and keeping pace with her husband down below. It is true that he hasn't met a tulmhainar - and here a stroke of darkness permeates the sunlight, remembering acutely their failures in that area. So many opportunities lost, dreams failed, hopes decayed. No- today is not a day for sadness. Not yet, at least. Far out at sea, I imagine, the Shield reflects instead, pushing away fears and uncertainty in favor of warmer thoughts. The waters around it will be rich with life. And it may speak to us, if we listen, and ask for memories. Happy ones. Like that of today. reach for the stars: but child, first recognize the constellations of light you already carry inside you