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Last night Peal didn't even know what stars looked like. Today he stands as the final, desperate lifeline for a coming golden era. No pressure.
I know what you're thinking - just look at the poor creature - but when your hero drops dead in the forest before the whole quest even starts, you can't afford to be picky with stand-ins. So we saddle Peal with the name, the mask, and all the responsibilities of this dead human, tell him to forget all his personal affairs like rites of passage or that girl he fancied, and push him out there to see whether he might actually be worth something.
You wouldn't bet on that, and neither would he. He quivers just thinking about the quest he's been put on. How is he supposed to protect and babysit these oversized cretins, when all he's good for is staying out of sight? How can he find the path when he's never been outside his burrow before? Any chance anyone could even give him a hug?
Peal's face is covered under that mask now. It conceals his meekness and gives him courage. And the stars no longer look so grand.
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