“Do I not give you stories Moon? Do my stories not feed the Sun as do the stories of others?”.

“I stay the longest with you Opossum, to gather your stories, to breathe them in, to feed my soul, but I must search for others in the night”.

As opossum’s eyes turned sad Moon said “for you see Opossum, your stories, I keep to myself, they feed my soul, and all the rest I leave for Sun, for they matter not to me”.