dances with wolves
let me come closer, i’m not your shadow
The sea was mightier than his mother’s stories made it out to be. Perhaps, though, it was being savage just for him. The painted colt grabbed at the thought, held on tight as he floundered, and swallowed a mouthful of salt water. It renewed him, this challenge that he faced, and even though his body grew weary, his spirit rose like the very waves.
He made it to the first island, and gracefully accepted his defeat with a lowered head. He had intended to get much further, but his eyes were bright as he shivered on the shoreline. It was a lesson, one that he would commit to memory. You may know where you want to go, but life has plans of its own. The next time he saw Guadalupe, he’d share this with her, even though he had a feeling she’d learned it herself long ago.
Perhaps he’d been foolish, leaving the Crossing in the middle of winter, taking to the sea for the first time by himself. But it was done, and he’d be more careful in the future. As it was, he retreated just a little further inland, away from the lapping waves that seemed to want to pull him back in, and carry him beyond the horizon. Shaking excess water from his bark-and-snow coat, he scanned the area, searching for signs of life. It seemed quiet here, and Dances imagined that the cold air would carry sound beautifully.
Curious as to whether this was true, and eager to find out if there were any souls nearby familiar with this island, he announced his presence, and listened to the echoes of himself. He was content to wait a while, but the sun was not far off from setting, and if by then no-one had come to investigate, he would assume that there was no-one out there to hear him, and go in search of shelter further inland. He knew better than to tread where he was not welcomed, but he would not risk the cold of night out in the open, nor tempt the dangers that it may bring.
with our eyes shielding us from oncoming counts
it’s not hard for us to say what we should not |