Natalie Lund Posts
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She will have a Pack, and that is a good life too.
THE MEN IN the old world began to multiply. They came for the bison first, slaughtering the great beasts with weapons that boomed. We hid in our trees and licked the blood from the dirt. They came for the trees next, wielding sharp blades on their shoulders. We sat on the stumps and watched as they built, log upon log, dwellings with clouds of smoke rising from narrow chimneys, great palaces marked with crosses, quarters filled with straw and beasts of burden.
The more men who stumbled into our circle when we sang at night, the more who came in the light too, searching for our Dens, weapons on their hips. We laughed them off. They weren’t a danger.
Yet.
Mama, I call to her, just like the Small, but when the shadow turns, there’s a pale blur where her face should be. I can’t see her. My Mother.
I paw my ears and let out a low howl.
“Okay, I’ll take the bait. What’s wrong?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say, knowing my tone doesn’t convey it. I wish, for once, she’d ask me if I wanted to do something instead of making decisions for me like I’m four.
WE WERE WARRIORS on the old-world battlefields. Slicing the sky with our wings. Catching men’s swords in our teeth. Slithering into their camps and striking with our venom while they slept.