Sunday, 18 July 2010


"Are you a star?" I asked her.

"No," she laughed in reply. "The skies are not my path."

"Then are you the ripples on the pond water?" I asked in wonderment.

"No, I do not dance on glass," she answered with a smile.

I paused and thought.

"Then you must be an angel," I said eventually.

"No," she laughed again, but I could hear the laugh was broken like a splinter.

I paused again. All I could hear was my own heartbeat. Alone but safe in the darkness.

"Are you lonely?" I asked softly.

She was silent. Then she spoke and her voice echoed with the mountain calls of the eagle and the soft cries of the waterfall. "Yes, I am lonely," she whispered. "In this world who cannot be?"

"The wolf," I replied. "Howling it's call to the moon, running alongside it's brothers and bringing meat for the she-wolf."


"Are you not an angel?" I asked once more.

"When you are younger your mind is not tainted." she murmured. "One day we will keep it that way."

I stared at her in amazement.

"I was stood once, up against a window." she whispered. "I opened it and put my hand out, feeling the cool drops of rain on my skin. But it burned. I realised I was not what I was meant to be. Never again could I look someone in the eyes and ask 'What am I?""

"What are you?" I asked.

For over an hour she was silent. I waited, as I knew her answer would be important.

"A wanderer." she whispered softly. "I take to the wing and oversee everything below. The skies are not my path; they are my solitude. I am not a star; I do not burn brightly enough. I do not dance on the pond water; I am not pure enough. Tainted forever more. As the wolves cry their song to the moon I tremble above."

A single tear rolled down her cheek. It was like a diamond; glinting in the ice light.

"I listen to the murmurs of the people below and the whispers of the long grass. They tell me nothing of who I am."

"Oh." I replied breathlessly. I felt a deep stirring of pity for her. "You should listen to the song of the moon and stars instead."

"Why?" she murmured.

"Because then you can find out who you are."

"I can never find out who I am. It would destroy me." she replied simply.

"So you must listen to the murmurs and whispers until you break?" I whispered, horrified.

"I must listen to the wolves’ sad song until I break." she confirmed with a smile, and disappeared through the darkness.


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