The Last Daughter of the Wolves
By Karl Knight
My name is Sian and I am the last Daughter of the Wolves. My
mother is Sherell who is Sun and my father is Wordel who is Moon. My father
lights my way and hides me beneath his cloak and each day I slumber in the
warmth of my mother as she watches me.
I was not always a child of the Sun and Moon. Many years ago
I was the child of man. I lived betwixt sanity and severity. The razors edge of
conformity slowly ebbed my blood and chained me to the darkness. I dance now in
light, my feet twinkling on dew and freedom.
But this was not always so. I was trapped, constricted in
the little moments within the clock. And the man with the empty jaw smiled at
me. His teeth were dead and his eyes were hungry.
I do not know how he found me. It was a moment that ended all
memory. The moments lost in sorry, but there he was. He danced me like a
puppet; the long strings pulled me till my hips ached. I could see all his
little stories dancing in his eyes. He was not looking at me, he was pushing me
into a hole that once belonged to hurt and shame and hoping that I would fill
the void.
He pulled my strings and made me dance. The dance scared me;
I could not be what I was. Then I understood. The last daughter of the wolves
could coil from beneath his boot. This thing, this small animal, this earwig,
this man. He was broken and I was THE
LAST DAUGHTER OF THE WOLVES.
So I waited, I let myself be small, like a wolf I sat at his
lap and did his bidding. Each word was a mark that burned like a brand. I let
the scars baptise me and then one day the eyes were dark and weary. Clumsy
fingers forgot the right lock!
It was then that I shared my teeth with him. I bathed that
day for the first time. I showed the dead teeth and hungry eyes the end of the
sharp edge of fury.
It was then that I found my teeth and claws. I took a blade.
It was a thing that had loved me before. I took my blade and with a final
release I howled and watched those eyes join his teeth. My father smiled on me
and hid me beneath his cloak as I danced away into the night. I was so happy.
Tears washed away the old life and baptised me.
It was then that my journey began, I walked on empty feet
for hours until finally I found a place to rest and felt my mother shelter me
and banish the chill in my bones.
As I slumbered in her bosom I dreamt of the hunting in the
darkness. Of stalking softly my teeth offering a hidden death to my prey. Then
when the wind rises calling my pack in the darkness. I could smell them and
those we hunted. A quick call sharp and true to start the hunt.
We circle now, finding the gaps and darting toward any who
try to escape. Once we have you we will not let you go. A race to cover the
flank, but never stop, we can wait for blood. We can wait to feast. A game is
made to tire our food, a sharp taste of blood to wear down, my brother and I
lunge together waiting to strike. Then again and again the pack strikes till in
one final moment of sweet victory we attack as one taking the prey down and
rending flesh and bone. We will feed well tonight.
I open my eyes, my mother lay down and opens the night for
my father to look down upon me with love. A hunger thunders in my gut. I am the
last daughter of the wolves and I will be sated.
I find a place to hunt. It is full of sheep. They pretend to
be wolves but they are really just sheep. I hide my teeth and enter their den. The sheep are watching me. They are hungry and
think that I can satiate the hunger. I gently touch my teeth and smile till the
hour is late. In Russia they call it the hour of the wolf. I wait till they are
blurred and lost and then I strike.
The first one is hamstrung. I bite deep and true. Then the
next and the next, one tries to bite me but I have been kissed by steel so many
times that I just take it as a lovers kiss and return the kiss with passion.
Then I feed. The blood greases the earth I stand on and as
they all cry in anguish I am happy to know that the world will learn of the
last daughter of the wolves.
With one last bite I end the crying and skip back into the
night.
Ready to find more sheep to feed my hunger.
© 2013 Karl Knight
© 2013 Karl Knight
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