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04-28-2013, 07:18 PM
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She is sugar and spice and everything nice. She is the mare Phaedra, and like clockwork she has arrived. I told you she would come. Young ursa minor flips and turns joyously in the grass. The heavens are his home, the earth his playground. He comes here to get away and free himself. He comes here to bathe in the scent of evening dew and bask in the presence of the living. The hoofsteps of an oncoming mare alert him, but do not scare him. He rolls onto his star-made paws and stands before her. He is happy to see her. His eyes gleam with recognition and pride as if he has known her very well for very long. He has been expecting her and now she has come to say hello by the evening light. He thinks she is talking to him, he doesn't know who Eytan is. Wait a second, neither do you. He's not here; as far as you are concerned, he does not exist. Got that? Erase him. He never happened. Young ursa is the important one here. His body lifts upwards gracefully until he stands on two paws, but when he moves forward from this position it is ungracefully. He bumbles more than walks, stumbles rather than advances. But it is all very charming. The creature of the night sky cares for nothing but Phaedra now. He does not turn his gaze upwards towards the bird in the trees, he simply draws closer to Phaedra. She says hello but he answers with silence. Are you surprised? He's just a bear, ursa minor or not. He can't speak, that would be ridiculous. Small grunts come from betwixt the young bear's lips. He crashes down onto all fours standing directly before Phaedra and digs at the base of a bush with long, blunt claws. He catches berries on his tongue and turns to watch her with a welcoming expression. She should eat with him, rest with him. He takes the few remaining steps closer to completely bridge the gap and contentedly lays at her hooves. His face is smeared with berry-juice, his fur is matted with dirt and dew. He groans, a deep, throaty roar of pleasure, and lets his long tongue press firmly, affectionately, against her ankles. This is his hello. |
