he had thought that he was safe
there in his forest of ice
he’d left the world of light and warmth behind
choosing instead a life of dark and cold
he had feared the heat of the other world
feared it with a passion most never know
feared it as most would love their mates
but fear it he did -
for he was
the snow tiger
he’d painted his hard lean body
in stripes of shadows and light
the black of black the white of white
he’d painted it like the stripes on the trees
with their ribbons of frost
not to be seen by day or by night
and so he lived in the vast wasteland of steel and cold
there he’d worked feverishly to uphold
never allowing another in
guarding the glacier that was all him
never leaving the safety of his self-made lair
he’d thought that he was happy there
that he was safe
but only one as frigid as he could survive such a place
there was no nourishment to be found in the arctic woods
he hunted here he hunted there he hunted everywhere
but the gnawing hunger remained
it gnawed through his belly and into his cold dark heart
leaving a hole that could not be filled
and soon he knew there was nothing left
in his forest to be hunted - to be consumed -
to ease the pain of his hunger as it grew
the hunger he had felt before
but which now became a ravishing sword
and then one day at the forest edge
as he crept closer and closer still
there stood a vision he ne’er had seen before
but one he feared nevertheless -
he feared to the bottom of his lonely soul
and knew in his gut that this vision meant danger
danger to him and to all that was his
the vision remained - there it stood -
starring straight into the windows of his barren soul
something familiar something once known
or maybe just a dream
but no - it was a mortal creature the vision he feared
a mortal creature with long dark hair that softly swept
the snow beneath her human feet
the sight of this mortal soul struck a chord of primal fear
her haunting black eyes never left his icy stare
her scent attacked the spirit he’d long forgot
he thought perhaps she was just a gentle breeze
blown by the dusty figments of his empty imagination
for the trees in his forest had long since lost their leaves
he could not strike and he could not flee
he was transfixed frozen in her light
and what of that light - it was not white, that must be it
this light - this unpure light - emitted something evil - something sinister
it had color - and that evil that he most feared -
the one her light emitted
to the gods he implored - not this not this - this he could not survive
this would surely kill him - this - this was his most dreaded enemy
this was warmth! life, even! life, with passion!
and in that moment of time stood still
the she-creature fearing not his warrior stance
edged closer and closer again
moving toward him toward all that was his
he roared at her from the icy lobes of his fractured heart
threatening threatening again
but she did not fear him she did not retreat
closer still she edged into his sacred trees
her smell permeated deeper still
leaving his core needing more
his mind abandoned him
he could not think as before
and he knew that she brought with her
weapons the likes of which he’d never dreamed
and then his great claws began to lose their grip
their grip no longer holding to the frozen ground now turned liquid
her eyes never left his stare as she came toward him
bringing with her a strange never before felt sensation
it was foreign to him it burned his eyes attacked his nostrils flared
and invaded that secret part of him long held captive by the cold
this light that surrounded her now surrounded him
what could it be
his worst fear brought to reality?
what could it be? who could she be? who was she?
this mortal who walked in light and warmth and color
this light that once attacked his senses
somehow now seemed to ease the ravaging pit of his hunger
further and further she encroached
it seemed her odour ate at him it conquered advancing ever more
the light and the warmth that was her invaded even deeper
deeper into the darkest recesses surging but never retreating
until it reached the stalwart chambers of his heart of stone
seeping down into the crevasse of cold that had been his life
it left him dizzy it left him alive
then he realized that thing - the thing that she brought with her -
that light and warmth thing - it was something he almost remembered
from the other world - something he need not fear
something that could be cherished, even -
it was a thing called
love
and this other thing, this she-creature -
this mortal whom he had first feared
he remembered her now, too
from once before in the land of light and warmth
yes
he remembered her now -
she was the gypsywoman-
she had traveled far suffered much to reach him
to save him from the ravages of his own frost
from the hunger that consumed him
she had come from the other world
and she had come
for
him
.jpg)
