The Melting of Ice (Part 1)

Tapestries of clouds swirl before night’s curtain like a paintbrush eased across the canvas, streaking the moon as a winged silhouette soars past, the wolf in me stirs. Sight changing over I spot it swooping back from the south. There is a white sheen being reflected off its skin by the moon and a pearlesque from the feathers in the wings. Closer it comes And I notice its female my heart beats, I thought that would never happen again, but there it is, fluttering under my breastplate. I can feel my limbs warm as old blood begins to slide through vessels thought to have rotted away long ago and as she prepares to land my muscles tense, body preparing to flee, mind pausing out of curiosity. With one last swipe of her wings she pulls her body perpendicular to the ground toes caressing the earth like a lovers touch, skin almost glowing in the light, fangs glistening as a blood drop falls from a fresh feeding. I feel the fur raise on my hunched back as I pull myself erect, stretching my shoulders forward and back, realigning my spine, my features stay lupine but my physiology more human than it been in years, and I notice this one approaches undauntingly, bluish gray eyes tearing into my soul. This causes a pause mind glaring for understanding, as my paws slide forward but once within a few feet my forgotten soul explodes forth from its little crypt I created for it When I became the forsaken (of my own choice). I taste The beautiful irony taste of blood In my mouth And realize I’m biting my own lip.