No Poetry but the Stars

Asmul took a shaky breath, the cold air a blade— no, a relief upon his tongue. The cold was kind, the cold was familiar. The cold was home.
He stood at the tip of Cathedral Point, mere tail-lengths from the ocean. The water was quiet. The light of the moon danced upon the barely-cresting waves, giving the ice surrounding Asmul an ethereal glow. He could see the stars, but his gaze wasn’t angled upward: it was staring out. Towards the sea, towards home.
But Saeligarr was no longer his home, he thought. He had to create a new one on Boreas. He had to tear the stitching that bound his soul to those of his loved ones at home, but Asmul knew not how.
So he sat, another night in silence, another night without any company besides the moon. Besides the stars that glittered, inlaid in black velvet, glittered like a thousand pitying eyes. The snow flurried around his paws. It skidded along the ice, and Asmul thought of freedom. Perhaps some would believe detached heartstrings were a blessing. After all, there were no limitations besides the ones you made: You’d have nobody to care for but yourself. Asmul wished he could think that way. Instead, his heart yearned to love, to nurture, to be with someone else. To be tied down, to be secure. He had done just that for much of his life. He’d loved his family, his sister. And he missed them.
Asmul blinked back the tears that suddenly flooded his eyes, and wondered if the moon could pull them from him like she pulled the tides.

(OOC: edited because I always forget to tag as AW hhh also everyone is welcome feel free to hop in)