Ox × The Lone Swordbearer
Shoulders it alone, and shoulders it into a wall no one can knock down.
The Lone Swordbearer shoulders it alone and you, an Ox, shoulder it into a wall no one can knock down. Daybreak waning crescent thin in the gray, Sirius the brightest lone star burning by itself. Where the bare Swordbearer charges and tires, your load-bearing nerve adds stamina, so you go from charging the wall to carrying it on your back, and lasting longer at it than seems possible.
You grit your teeth through any hard fight to the end. When the corner is tightest and the room has emptied, you are the one still standing, still pushing, the last name on the field. People learn they can hand you the impossible stretch and walk away, because you do not put it down and you do not ask for relief. That endurance is rare and it is genuinely yours.
The fault is that you carry everything alone and you are stubborn about it. You take the whole weight without a word, turn down the hand that reaches out, and only when something finally cracks does anyone find out you were close to breaking the entire time. Sirius is the brightest star in the sky and it has no one to lean on, but you are not a star, you have people who would take a corner of the load if you let the word out of your mouth. Once a season, say it out loud before the crack.
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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.