The Goddess of Night once (it's believed) was more than just a goddess made of something that looked like flesh and bones. Once she was the night sky, endless and black and very much a mare who swallowed up the sun once every day. She changed with the season, slick and short in the summer, long and shaggy in the winter when the sun seemed so very far away from the world.
The great sky mare, shed her coat once a year and when the moon rose at it's fullest bits of her would fall like early spring snows. And where the strands of her hair would land on rock and ice horses were born from the light that ran like blood inside the dark flesh of the night.
It's said that they all carry about bits of her in their blood and if they bleed it's light that pours out and nothing of red run through their veins (but the few of them that have died from more than old age have run as red as canyon rock). They have long forgotten who was the first of them as they learned to breed and live not as stars and constellations but as mortal horses.
Now it's only known that they are strange, something as 'other' as they are beautiful.
The tribe, it's said, has a religion of its own. It's one of star-signs and cards that channel the inner gravity of any brave enough to believe. They dance like pagans on the solstices and the priestesses lead them all in hauntingly lovely rituals when the night is both as its longest and shortest.
Even though the Court has whispered of them for as long as anyone can remember there's so no formal name for this strange tribe of horses that seem more like stars than mortals. And so they simply call them stars as they beg for their futures to be told.
Lines by: Vitia4mo
All else credited to lovesome