Rooster × The Streetcorner Stargazer
At sundown it talks with anyone, and as it talks it can't help slipping in a line or two of critique.
The Streetcorner Stargazer talks to anyone and warms a corner just by standing in it. The Rooster cannot talk without slipping in a note of critique. At sundown you fall into conversation with whoever is there, and as you talk you cannot help dropping a line or two of advice on how they could do it better. So the small talk is really care in disguise, your warmth coming out as a couple of pointers for their life.
You are warm-hearted at the root, the kind who sorts a stranger's problem out in two sentences on a street corner. People come away helped. But the bluntness keeps tripping the warmth. The critique runs too sharp, and what started as friendly turns into nitpicking, and the person who was glad to chat suddenly finds a reason to leave. You meant to fix their thing for them. They heard a list of what they were doing wrong.
Altair is the Cowherd star, everyday warmth, the light of ordinary people. The First Quarter moon sits under a streetlamp here, half-lit and close. The element is the Still Stream. Some corners, hold the critique and just hear them out first. The warmth is the gift. The pointers can wait for a day they ask.
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A mirror, not a prophecy. It reflects you as you are right now. How you walk is still yours to choose.