Ah, the Wanderer is ever restless.
He roams the Ages, sailing through time and space, lingering but a season, never content, always seeking a new horizon. The great Sky River is his domain, the stars are steadfast guardians over his fleeting, meandering presence.
And they whisper: lo! there passes the drifting comet, the exile who seeks a haven where he can rest from his ceaseless travels, the pilgrim who is journeying to his home. The lonely voyager, watching upon the ship of stars as he sails into eternity.