We think about what is written in the stars, or by the stars, as it were, since we are the ones doing the writing and we're all made of stardust anyway. One way you might start writing this particular story about these particular humans (and one very particular dog): A few years ago on a late January evening the stars were hiding but a dusting of snow was falling on the District as two strangers emerged from a small pie shop. They had bellies full of 'za and hearts a slice more open to magic than they'd been a mere hours before, and for a long time before that. The man invited the woman for one more drink before they parted ways. Looking to the glittering snow as a sign, she accepted, and they made their way to the dive bar on the corner. Several more lines have been written since, but suffice it to say, they never really parted ways. Today, the man indulges the woman's gasps at the moon, and she his penchant for primary colors. They read romantasy together as the dog indulges them both by letting them sleep in his bed. The next chapter will soon begin, and they are excited to share it with you.