The girl exhaled, her breath condensing in a faint puff as she gazed. She imagined the countless exoplanets tucked away in each pinpoint of light.

Perhaps of all the stars her naked eye could see, not a single one held more than a puddles’ worth of microorganisms. Perhaps of all the stars beyond her view, only one held life anywhere near as complex as that on her own.

Perhaps those people looked up at the sky and imagined the same. Imagined her.

What would that planet be like?

Perhaps this planet was also close to its star. Perhaps it too was tidally locked, bathing one side in forever scorching sun and the other a constant swath of darkness. Her people lived in the terminator zone, a place of twilight. Only in the past centuries had they dared encroach upon the eternal night.

Perhaps this planet would be placed confidently in the Goldilocks zone. Perhaps it would spin, with life-bringing daylight cycles. Perhaps this planet was more diverse. Perhaps it had a dozen moons. Perhaps there were a thousand things she would never know about this marvel of a marble. Perhaps it’s people were content with themselves and didn’t see fit to think stellar thoughts.

Perhaps this planet had no war. Perhaps things were better. Or perhaps things were worse. And someone would look up at the stars, dreaming of Zira, seeing it to be paradise.

Perhaps there was nobody out there.

But Amrynn liked to think there was.