Tthey’re not stars, they're holes poked into the top of a container so we can breathe

Though he tried not to let it get to him, the guilt was sometimes overwhelming. If Theory was out there somewhere, in desperate need of help, could she forgive him for not searching for her still? If she needed him and knew he was simply settling down somewhere new with Twig, daydreaming about a family they might never have... he tried not to think about it for too long. The truth was that she'd always be happy for him even despite everything, and deep down he knew that, but it didn't make him feel any less guilty.

At least the other male seemed pleased that Corvus knew his grandmother; the world really did feel small sometimes, even in all its vastness. His words hit close to home though and Corvus nodded along solemnly. "I know the feeling well. I'm lucky that I have my wife Twig alongside me now. Without her..." He'd always been a realist, knowing he could conquer anything, but she'd been at his side for so long now that he wasn't sure how he'd go on without her. "I'm not sure where I'd be, but surely not here." The smile he offered was a somber one at best. Her love felt so unconditional that imagining going on without her felt like a task too monumental for him to even imagine, so he made a point not to.