But Sun hated the light.
“She said ‘Earth hurts my eyes!'” Mishaal hunches his shoulders, and his firelight shadow becomes round and menacing. “‘I will eat its light.'”
She rose up and began to swallow it, but Earth only made more.
“Sun shrank in pain,” hisses Mishaal. “The bright light crushed her to a tiny ball!”
At last, Sun cut a hole in herself to let the light out; she could keep eating forever, then, even as she swelled and fell.
“Earth saves its light by night,” says Mishaal, “and Sun heals, and the stars are her blood on the sky.”