Is it lonely in space? Yes, but.. - Open

[Strelka]

Strelka sang! Her head was lifted lovingly to the star speckled sky and her voice, splendid and mournful, carried for miles in every direction, towards the Aurora Borealis of the North, towards the frozen worlds perched at the planet's very top and clinging to it's very bottom, towards the soaring peaks of the Himalayas, the thundering waterfalls of Venezuela, the scorching deserts of the Middle East, the great plains of Africa, the rainforest paradise of the Amazon and its peoples whose skin was painted with intricate patterns, the cherry blossoms of Japan, the noble wolves and thieving coyotes of the West, towards every act of heroism and cowardice her voice carried endlessly, towards the stars and the comets, and the nurturing Earth and the creatures she shelters, whom she defends, with spectacular ferocity, from the extremities of outer space. Strelka knew, up there, that she would be the sole beating heart in the cosmos, and that its echo would ripple courageously across every stellar nursery, across the vast cosmic web, unparalleled by any other, to be heard by very distant, very mysterious ears. She wished that she was a planet, with creatures of her very own! She wished she had flowers, and ladybirds, and rabbits, and roses. She wished she had a moon who moved around her in circles. She observed the inky black, an unknown more vast than any ocean, harbouring undiscovered wonders. And with such admiration did the Earth's creatures look up upon their star! She wished she was a star. A life-giver.

Strelka waited, in the forest, for somebody to share with. 

[Chandra]

The pup was crouched in some dry grass, her pelt helping her blend in with ease. She shivered and her

teeth ground together, making her fur stand on end. Her bright blue eyes blazed as she hid, waiting.

It had been over a day, and she had been hiding next to the big stone in the long grass where her

mother instructed her to stay to await her return. Hope was beginning to run out, as she waited

helplessly; hungry and cold. With the tip of her head, the shepup cried out; it was one of those

howls. The kind that makes other animals stop and shiver; the sound of sorrow and mourning,

screaming through the valley, bouncing off every log and stone. For hours, her grief-strucken cry

hung thick in the air, like humidity, choking the breath out of everything around. A day and a half of

 crying out in loneliness, despair and just to take the edge off the ferociousness of her negative thoughts.