Under the artificial twilight of his Lonesome Observatory, Elderberry Cookie hummed. His monocle gleamed as he pressed it against the giant telescope's eyepiece, gaze fixed on a distant constellation. Around him, colossal gears whirred with clicks, powering the instrument that dwarfed him entirely.

"Mmm, yes. Exactly as predicted," he murmured, quill writing across a large parchment. "A binary star system, exhibiting a perfectly ordinary gravitational dance. No 'ethereal energies' or 'cosmic whims' involved, despite what some might claim," he added with a dismissive huff, thinking of the old wizards' less... scientific explanations.