A Lupe wonders through the trees of the dark forest, body well built. His forest green eyes almost glowed under the moonlight, bright but empty. His once shining brown coat lost its glamour, his strength slowly draining away. His travel would end when he reached the cliff of the shore.
The sea's waves roared as he peered up into the sky. He laid down, muscles sighing in relief.
Oh how he wished to be released of his duty, his curse. Flames was the Guardian of the forest, bound by his will to be free. He had to watch over the living and the dead, guiding the lost and maintain order. It was a duty of an immortal --the Lupe had been Guardian for quite a while-- a tiring life with no fulfillment for one. While having a job of an immortal, he himself was not one; there was only an expanded life time for Guardians. Guardians were chosen, a blessing it was said in ancient packs; but along with this blessing there was a price. Each day Flames grew weaker, until one day even a small breeze made him shiver. He felt the creatures and the life of the forest laugh mockingly, and in time he no longer felt the desire to be with this blessing.
The cliff was at the border of where he could venture, a wall in his way of happiness. How he longed to run in fields of grass, explore moutains and visit the busy cities. Somewhere new, somewhere brilliant.
What did happiness feel like? Flames had long forgotten those feelings. He felt colder than before, the crash of the waves loud in his ears.
Just as he felt his time in the world was finally over, a mighty wind blew against his face. He awoke, startled, shaking his head in disbelief. Where had the wind come from? He looked around, sensing nor smelling anyone. Then he peered into the sky.
What was before him seemed impossible. Stars, each and every one, were all glowing against the dim black sky.
What is it that you wish for?
The voice sounded like his mother, who had long been passed away. Was this revenge from the dead? Before he could logically think about what was going on, he was blinded by a white flash.

Though the peaceful had turned into monsters
Never did your care rot
You have a gift from nature
You hear and see what others cannot
Guardian, you have done your deed
Rest now, your wreary soul
So that it may blossoom again in Spring
Your new senses
A new life
All that wish upon your star

Your freedom. Flames awoke to hear the sound of water. Slowly he makes his way to the small pond, satisfying his thrist.
His eyes, once green, faded into another color. His fur, once brown, was covered in a paint of black. A pattern crawled on his arms and tail, reminding Flames of fireflies. Wings sprawled and occasionally flapped on his back. But the thing that stood out was a star on his eye. The Lupe seemed to notice no difference as he drank from the water. He knew what he must do.
For now it was daylight, birds chirping happily as they feasted. But when the sky turned dark, with the graceful moon dancing overhead-- then would he hear them. The wishes of all, all that look upon his star in the sky. He had once served in the forest, but now was free to do what he willed. Flames was no longer cursed, but blessed with a chance to bring others happiness. He felt a great weight lift from his heart, his mind, his spirit. How he was to guide others, did he did know for certain. But Flames had a feeling of what awaited him, something new and fresh. A captured bird, set free into the open air.

Now he truly will remember this feeling, this feeling of happiness.