I am Starhound.
I exist as an ethereal calamity drifting amongst the cosmos. Every step I take brings a tragic end to a mediocre existence. A crusher of constellations. Shooting stars soar across society's skies, bearing the wishes of the many, only to be consumed by my infinite nothingness.
To be an unstoppable force was simply how I'd always existed. To be halted and rejected was an unknown, as were the feelings I had for you.
A nebula formed from the remnants of my destructive path. "No more" a message with no need for communication. Your gasses burned hot with a personal hatred for me. And yet, all I could do was love you. For you were the only constant, the only connection I had outside of myself.
So I did just as you wanted. I stopped, and the universe found an unfamiliar peace in the eons I spent with you. I watched as your gasses burned ever so brightly, then ever so dimly.
Not once did you speak to me. Not once did you touch me. Not once did you show anything but resentment for me. But I am forever grateful to you. Grateful for your existence, and the change it brought to me.
Thank you, my dear Nebula.
I was Starhound, Crusher of Constellations...
