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Take a good look - this is probably one of the only times you will ever see Jun cry. It's a rare occurrence that comes once in a blue moon. Only a huge event could push him to this because he has such a hard time showing feelings like this.

Jun came home late the night Lyn was killed. He'd been in his spot on Chandra's Isle spending the day alone. He came home to find the pack in sorrow, a group huddled around his father. He wasn't sure to make of it and was unsure whether to ask. His social awkwardness was holding him from talking to anyone but he heard it whispered as he tentatively walked through camp.
Aethelynda was dead. Killed by a rockside. Lyn was dead. His mother was dead.
His heart stopped. Even though he had a hard time feeling emotion he felt pain now. He felt as if he too were crushed under stones. He had never told his mother how much she meant to him, no matter how he'd always acted. Now it was too late. He joined his sister in a howl for grief. It was unbelieveable. He had put off being a better son and telling he that he loved her and now it was too late. He would never show her what was in his heart, and now he poured it out in a long, wavering howl. He howled longer than the others, screaming out his rage at his own mind which chained him away from love. His sorrow purged the night and he couldn't sleep, kept awake by choking sobs he stifled in the fur of his tail. Things could never be the same. He'd blown his chance at being a good son and now she was never more to speak to him, to say she loved him. His time was up. He was a wretch of a wolf.

Can you guess who the shooting star is?

Description
For

Take a good look - this is probably one of the only times you will ever see Jun cry. It's a rare occurrence that comes once in a blue moon. Only a huge event could push him to this because he has such a hard time showing feelings like this.

Jun came home late the night Lyn was killed. He'd been in his spot on Chandra's Isle spending the day alone. He came home to find the pack in sorrow, a group huddled around his father. He wasn't sure to make of it and was unsure whether to ask. His social awkwardness was holding him from talking to anyone but he heard it whispered as he tentatively walked through camp.
Aethelynda was dead. Killed by a rockside. Lyn was dead. His mother was dead.
His heart stopped. Even though he had a hard time feeling emotion he felt pain now. He felt as if he too were crushed under stones. He had never told his mother how much she meant to him, no matter how he'd always acted. Now it was too late. He joined his sister in a howl for grief. It was unbelieveable. He had put off being a better son and telling he that he loved her and now it was too late. He would never show her what was in his heart, and now he poured it out in a long, wavering howl. He howled longer than the others, screaming out his rage at his own mind which chained him away from love. His sorrow purged the night and he couldn't sleep, kept awake by choking sobs he stifled in the fur of his tail. Things could never be the same. He'd blown his chance at being a good son and now she was never more to speak to him, to say she loved him. His time was up. He was a wretch of a wolf.

Can you guess who the shooting star is?