The Magestic Beast:
Moonlight shines overhead, making my skin glow and appear a lovely olive tone.
My hair, so black, it's blue.
The stars are few.
My ears pick up the sound of a river near by.
I wonder about the types of creatures that could be going to that little stream of water.
The squirrels and the chipmunks scurry in the trees.
The deer and the raccoons in the brush.
What else could there be?
My hearing, acute and precise, hears the sound of paws, padding closer to tree where I sit.
It's an elegant, black furred wolf.
Beautiful, strong, and wise; a hunter, like myself.
Where do you run to in the beautiful moonlight?
Who is it you call to withing the chilling air of night?
Are you hurt?
Do you love?
Can you feel alone?
What are you truely, besides a lovely soul?Have you tried to undrstand my heart as i have your's?
Do you long for the abilty to communicate with those like me?
Brave ar' thou who have slayed many.
Are you going to see me as your prey?
Will you see me as a fellow hunter?
I wonder if you understand my many, many questions.
Is this considered mad?
To talk to a wolf in the middle of the woods, by a steady river, asking it if it has dreams and wishes as well?
Do you have a pack?
A family of hunters to keep company?
Are you a 'lone wolf?
Surely you are a lone alpha.
I bet it's nice.
Not having a care in the world except what you eat when you're hungry.
Free to roam the earth as pleased.
One within nature, as much a part of it as it a part of you.
Spirits that have bonded.