The older, richer, ones follow the winter, taking the long nights where they find them. Still, they prefer the northern hemisphere to the south.
"You see that star?" they say, pointing to one of the stars in the constellation of Draco, the Dragon. "We came from there. One day we shall return."
The younger ones sneer and jeer and laugh at this. Still, as the years become centuries, they find themselves becoming homesick for a place they have never been; and they find the northern climes reassuring, as long as Draco twines about the greater and lesser Bears, up near chill Polaris.
"Imagine", she said, "that there was something in the sky that was going to hurt you, perhaps even kill you. A huge eagle or something. Imagine that if you went out in daylight the eagle would get you."
"Well," she said. "That's how it is for us. Only it's not a bird. It's bright, beautiful, dangerous daylight, and I haven't seen it now in a hundred years."