April 7th, xxxy
CAPTAIN SANDCASTLE DOES NOT know whose bright idea it was to welcome them with a loud pop of champagne (store bought until the Constellation's refined stock) shocking them and nearly blinding his eye but they are welcomed back with a loud pop of champagne nonetheless.
And good cheer. Lots of good cheer that lasts longer than a minute. It is almost as if Precious—Alpha North—is the groom marrying into North Star Pack.
Their expressions—North Star and Constellation alike—mirrors each other's: lips split into a grin, faces flushed with happiness and eyes creasing at the corners of laughter. Their voices, a blend of each other's asking stupid questions.
"How was Miki? Is he as pretty as the pictures?"
"Of course. It's Miki," a Constellation obnoxiously answers. "He is divine."
"Divine. Really?"
"Yes. As beautiful as colours and as graceful as a swan."
"What the hell."
