Masks

Feb. 19th, 2013 06:41 pm
writer_mel: (Scared)
[personal profile] writer_mel
Dark eyes and sharp beaks. Deep red and pure black ellipses signaled emotion and intent. Carved feathers and fur were hints of the animal soul within. No other details were visible, limbs disguised by matte black cloth. When the creatures moved it was with the jerking and hopping of the jackdaw or the sly maneuverings of the fox. They circled each other crying out to each other and to the night, fighting to be heard over the chants of the tribe. Between them danced the maidens and the hunters, each begging a secret boon.

Frustration growing, desperation building, the two forms fought to reach through the dancers. The fox tried another route, going around the drummers at the back of the circle. She almost got through but at the last instant a drummer stood before her and pointed back to the center. The jackdaw sagged; the fox's defeat his own. As night dragged on, the drummers pounded all that much harder, directing the dance.

Finally the horizon brightened and the drumming slowed. The maidens exited the circle first, carrying with them the assumed blessing of the tribe's totems. Then the hunters, flush with the satisfaction of completing the dance. Finally the drumbeats ceased and one of the drummers stepped forward to kick the fire apart so it would fade.

Alone at last, exhausted beyond words by the passion of an entire people funneled through them, too tired even to notice the pain, they reached across the embers to finally clasp hands.


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Melinda Duval

October 2022

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