Rabbit-hearted child, the forest lives in your bones. You can feel her singing your lifesong: you are her kin, born into the ferns and taken to the concrete trees. Hunted turned hunter, you are –– you are ghost, fox-souled, bear-toothed, wolf-smiled. Dewdrops live in your pockets, and leaves are intertwined in your hair. You are something wild forced to be docile; you may pretend, but you have never been tamed. You wear skin that is not your own: your bones shiver, muscles tense and trembling. You taste soil on your tongue. You buried your body amongst the tree roots, staring at the stars above. (Rest, my vessel, you whispered, rest. My soul will return for you when the dusk is warm and the sun is golden.) You now wear skin that is not yours; it is the skin of a stranger beast than you have ever known. The beast who’s form you borrow is something odd. They do not notice your sharp-toothed smile, your starlight eyes – they do not notice you are a ghost borrowing an empty body. You are beast turned man–– –– But alas! Is it better? Is this the shade of an existence worth the while? You survive, but do you live? Your body – true form – is wrapped in the roots of an ancient oak. It sleeps peacefully, quiet, quiet, and even now when you close your eyes, you can see the stars under which you buried yourself. One day, one day, you will return, when the moon is new and the stars are cold. Until you enter sleep eternal, you feel the wildness in your bones. It hums through your veins, lightning in your heart, mist in your lungs. You, wolf-smiled child, are to be beautiful, are to be feared. One day, my rabbit-hearted child, you shall return home.
To you, my beautiful bear-toothed child. CNS
commissioned by @abeastlything for @ispeakforthewolves !!
