Hungry and irritable the dragons were. Pinks and oranges colored the eastern horizon and still they had not fed. The frenzy of the mating flight on the previous night had left them depleted. Their massive bodies were in need of nourishment. Their lean muscled bodies held little in stored energy. They were unable to go more than four nights without feeding or they could become too weak to hunt. The female, Hhizz, was especially vulnerable now that she carried their future dragnets within her.
Turning to her mate, she touched his mind and asked, “My love, the day will soon break upon us. Do we rest or do we hunt into the day hours?”
“I will actively hunt awhile longer while you stay near the cliffs and ride the uprising air. If you begin to tire, seek the shelter of our cave.”
“And what of you, Sslethh? What if you grow weary? Will you not rest also?”
“I’ll not delay long, my love, but I’ll find us something to share, perhaps a mighty rabbit.” Together they laughed at the joke of sharing such a minuscule creature between them. Gently caressing her back with a wing tip he said, “Soon.” Then with powerful strokes of his wings began climbing higher into the morning air.
Monday, August 30, 2010
Friday, August 27, 2010
Dragon Moon - a work in progress 6
Buoyant on the night winds the dragons floated. For three decades he and his life-mate had hunted together. They circled, rolled and went into a dive as one. So strong is the bond that they share that each little shift of wing tip or tilt of head was instantly mimicked by the other.
Full and bright the moon cast long black shadows on the ground below. With their ability to see into the infrared, the moonlight was more of a hindrance than a help to them. But tonight was not a night for the thrill of the hunt. Together they would dance their aerial ballet just as their kind had done for eons. This night the intellect was set aside and instinct ruled alone.
Looking at her, he thought of the scores of hatchlings they had reared, and yet she was as beautiful to his eyes as the day they met. He loved her and she loved him. This mating flight was as sensual and stimulating as all the others had been. They continued until early dawn.
The next evening he roused from his day long slumber and let the warm memories about the evening wash over him. She returned his thoughts warm and gentle but the time of the Mating Moon was past and the emotions did not begin the endless loop. They had mated well and soon she would lay her eggs. Happy memories of their earlier hatchlings crossed his mind. The thoughts of those first awkward flights of the new dragons brought him joy. He was a good parent and he knew that very soon he would be responsible for feeding a whole nest of hatchlings, plus his mate. She would spend many months teaching and caring for the young dragons before they could be left alone for even a short time.
This night they would again fly wingtip to wingtip but the dance would be different. Tonight they would hunt.
Herds of grazers had begun moving through his territory. Seeking refuge from the coming cold and looking for new feeding grounds to the south the warm-bloods would make for good hunting. Many of the beasts were day travelers that rested at night which dropped there body temperature and made them harder to detect. However, many of the herds traveled at night when many predators also slept and their bodies glowed in the dragon’s eyes. The dragon’s ability to sense subtle differences in temperature was their main advantage in night hunting. However, their speed and strength were nearly unmatched.
Silent as falling leaves they rode the night breeze. Searching and finding. Near the edge of a forest was a small band of the one-horns. Patience! They would be circling high above, waiting for the creatures to move away from the trees and into the flat expanse of low growing shrubs. He didn’t want to strike too soon and drive them into the cover of the branches.
Suddenly there was a fiery movement below. A cave lion had lain hidden under the coolness of the shrubs! Now it attacked the herd which drove them into the trees where others of its kind waited. One young and two old one-horns were taken by the cats. The remainder of the herd ran far into the forest and was lost from sight. These prey were now beyond the dragon’s reach. They must search elsewhere this night.
Full and bright the moon cast long black shadows on the ground below. With their ability to see into the infrared, the moonlight was more of a hindrance than a help to them. But tonight was not a night for the thrill of the hunt. Together they would dance their aerial ballet just as their kind had done for eons. This night the intellect was set aside and instinct ruled alone.
Looking at her, he thought of the scores of hatchlings they had reared, and yet she was as beautiful to his eyes as the day they met. He loved her and she loved him. This mating flight was as sensual and stimulating as all the others had been. They continued until early dawn.
The next evening he roused from his day long slumber and let the warm memories about the evening wash over him. She returned his thoughts warm and gentle but the time of the Mating Moon was past and the emotions did not begin the endless loop. They had mated well and soon she would lay her eggs. Happy memories of their earlier hatchlings crossed his mind. The thoughts of those first awkward flights of the new dragons brought him joy. He was a good parent and he knew that very soon he would be responsible for feeding a whole nest of hatchlings, plus his mate. She would spend many months teaching and caring for the young dragons before they could be left alone for even a short time.
This night they would again fly wingtip to wingtip but the dance would be different. Tonight they would hunt.
Herds of grazers had begun moving through his territory. Seeking refuge from the coming cold and looking for new feeding grounds to the south the warm-bloods would make for good hunting. Many of the beasts were day travelers that rested at night which dropped there body temperature and made them harder to detect. However, many of the herds traveled at night when many predators also slept and their bodies glowed in the dragon’s eyes. The dragon’s ability to sense subtle differences in temperature was their main advantage in night hunting. However, their speed and strength were nearly unmatched.
Silent as falling leaves they rode the night breeze. Searching and finding. Near the edge of a forest was a small band of the one-horns. Patience! They would be circling high above, waiting for the creatures to move away from the trees and into the flat expanse of low growing shrubs. He didn’t want to strike too soon and drive them into the cover of the branches.
Suddenly there was a fiery movement below. A cave lion had lain hidden under the coolness of the shrubs! Now it attacked the herd which drove them into the trees where others of its kind waited. One young and two old one-horns were taken by the cats. The remainder of the herd ran far into the forest and was lost from sight. These prey were now beyond the dragon’s reach. They must search elsewhere this night.
Sunday, August 8, 2010
Dragon Moon - a work in progress 5
5
Chilled was the air and dark the sky on this late autumn night. Fog from the pond formed fur-like frost on the dried sweet grass. Thin crystals of ice formed patterns along the waters edge. Snow Moon sniffed at the air and turned with questioning eyes to his mother. “It is not rain that I smell on the wind but something new, something different.”
“Snow is coming and it is time that we began traveling southward where the grazing will be more plentiful and the dangers will be fewer. It is time for the great bears to begin fattening themselves for their long winter sleep.”
“Mom, I’ve seen the great bears and though they look dangerous they only eat berries and fruits. Surely they would not harm us.”
“Snowy,” she said using her new pet name for him, “Though they eat plants as we do they also eat flesh as the lions and dragons do. When the bears are fed full they may be harmless to us if we do not encroach on their territory. But be aware, my son, that at this time of year they can and will kill to satisfy their appetites. We must leave here before they begin their feeding frenzy. Do you see the southern hills below where the moon now stands?”
“Yes, Mother, the one that looks like a tortoise’ back?”
“I never thought of it so, but yes that is the one. Before the next cycle of the moon we must be beyond there or we’ll not make it through when the depth of winter comes. As we get closer to the tortoise we will come to a dry and barren land. We must cross it as quickly as possible without stopping to eat or drink. We may even travel by day if need be for it is a land cursed with dragons.”
“Snowy, my son, you have grown tall and strong in these past seasons and it will take all of our strength to make it past that desert. We must also be watchful for our own kind lest they see us.”
Hanging his head and looking away, he asked, “Mother, will you always be an outcast because of me?”
“I am your mother first and a member of the People second.”
“I can not miss what I’ve never known, but surely you who were raised in the herd must find it hard to be alone with just me. Is there no way that you and I can rejoin the herd? I’ve proven that I can hide myself from the eyes of the night predators. Certainly that is enough.”
“I wish it were so, Snowy, but the People are bound by traditions impossible to break. You would always be seen as a threat to the group safety in spite of any evidence to the contrary. Now drink deep for we begin this night.”
Chilled was the air and dark the sky on this late autumn night. Fog from the pond formed fur-like frost on the dried sweet grass. Thin crystals of ice formed patterns along the waters edge. Snow Moon sniffed at the air and turned with questioning eyes to his mother. “It is not rain that I smell on the wind but something new, something different.”
“Snow is coming and it is time that we began traveling southward where the grazing will be more plentiful and the dangers will be fewer. It is time for the great bears to begin fattening themselves for their long winter sleep.”
“Mom, I’ve seen the great bears and though they look dangerous they only eat berries and fruits. Surely they would not harm us.”
“Snowy,” she said using her new pet name for him, “Though they eat plants as we do they also eat flesh as the lions and dragons do. When the bears are fed full they may be harmless to us if we do not encroach on their territory. But be aware, my son, that at this time of year they can and will kill to satisfy their appetites. We must leave here before they begin their feeding frenzy. Do you see the southern hills below where the moon now stands?”
“Yes, Mother, the one that looks like a tortoise’ back?”
“I never thought of it so, but yes that is the one. Before the next cycle of the moon we must be beyond there or we’ll not make it through when the depth of winter comes. As we get closer to the tortoise we will come to a dry and barren land. We must cross it as quickly as possible without stopping to eat or drink. We may even travel by day if need be for it is a land cursed with dragons.”
“Snowy, my son, you have grown tall and strong in these past seasons and it will take all of our strength to make it past that desert. We must also be watchful for our own kind lest they see us.”
Hanging his head and looking away, he asked, “Mother, will you always be an outcast because of me?”
“I am your mother first and a member of the People second.”
“I can not miss what I’ve never known, but surely you who were raised in the herd must find it hard to be alone with just me. Is there no way that you and I can rejoin the herd? I’ve proven that I can hide myself from the eyes of the night predators. Certainly that is enough.”
“I wish it were so, Snowy, but the People are bound by traditions impossible to break. You would always be seen as a threat to the group safety in spite of any evidence to the contrary. Now drink deep for we begin this night.”
Friday, August 6, 2010
Dragon Moon - a work in progress 4
4.
After the incident with the cave lion, mother and son moved further away from the cliffs. They followed the stream for several moons and found a thicket of small plum trees near a pond of clear water. High grasses with golden tops grew at the edge of the water. Sweet Grass showed Snow Moon how to dislodge the heavy heads of seed from the tall grass.
“These are really good, Mama,” he said as he mowed down more stalks.
“They are my favorite food and what I was named for. These are sweet grass.”
Enjoying this time of fun talk, Snow Moon asked his mother what her first-name had been.
“At the Spring of my birth our herd was sharing a valley with the Little People …
“Little People?”
“That is what we call the herds goats for they are very like us though smaller and have two horns instead of the proper single horn.”
“Are they little like me, Mama?”
“Oh you are no longer as small as the Little People, Pink-nose. At birth you were nearly as large as most of them.” Continuing with her story she said, “As I was first trying to stand on my wobbly new-born legs, some of the Little People began a dance around me. They explained that it is part of their custom at birthing season. So when it was time for my naming ceremony, Father named me Little Dancer. Through that Spring and Summer I lived up to my name by playing many games with the children of the Little People. One old nanny who was the herds wise woman proclaimed that her family would be a shelter for my family.”
“What does that mean, mother?”
“My son, wise people always talk in riddles so that you are never sure what they mean. I think, however, that she meant that we would always be friends. But come you need to cover yourself in dust from the wallow for your white is beginning to show through.”
After the incident with the cave lion, mother and son moved further away from the cliffs. They followed the stream for several moons and found a thicket of small plum trees near a pond of clear water. High grasses with golden tops grew at the edge of the water. Sweet Grass showed Snow Moon how to dislodge the heavy heads of seed from the tall grass.
“These are really good, Mama,” he said as he mowed down more stalks.
“They are my favorite food and what I was named for. These are sweet grass.”
Enjoying this time of fun talk, Snow Moon asked his mother what her first-name had been.
“At the Spring of my birth our herd was sharing a valley with the Little People …
“Little People?”
“That is what we call the herds goats for they are very like us though smaller and have two horns instead of the proper single horn.”
“Are they little like me, Mama?”
“Oh you are no longer as small as the Little People, Pink-nose. At birth you were nearly as large as most of them.” Continuing with her story she said, “As I was first trying to stand on my wobbly new-born legs, some of the Little People began a dance around me. They explained that it is part of their custom at birthing season. So when it was time for my naming ceremony, Father named me Little Dancer. Through that Spring and Summer I lived up to my name by playing many games with the children of the Little People. One old nanny who was the herds wise woman proclaimed that her family would be a shelter for my family.”
“What does that mean, mother?”
“My son, wise people always talk in riddles so that you are never sure what they mean. I think, however, that she meant that we would always be friends. But come you need to cover yourself in dust from the wallow for your white is beginning to show through.”
Thursday, August 5, 2010
Dragon Moon - a work in progress 3
3.
Frightened bird calls startled them awake! “Listen, Snow Moon, our friends, the night birds are warning that some danger is near. Your play in the ash has concealed your whiteness and you must now be still and hide your mind. Think only of empty darkness like the back of the cave. Do not move and be mind quite!”
Sweet Grass moved slowly and silently away from Snow Moon. She kept a close eye on his location while scanning for what had startled the birds. Suddenly a cloud of glow-flies illuminated the night to her right. In their light she could see the cave lion crouched low and testing the air with its nose.
Thankful that the ash should conceal Snow Moon’s scent as well as his color, she made ready to sprint if the cat caught her scent. If the lion sensed her prescience, she was ready to lead him away from where her son lay hidden.
Noise filled the air as the glow-flies began a sound that seemed bigger than they were. Swooping and diving they began circling the lion with a maddening strobe light display. The cat no longer able to conceal himself from his prey gave up and bounded away. He was followed up the cliff face by the annoying glow-flies.
Once she was sure that the lion was truly gone, she turned her attention to Snow Moon and was startled to find a single glow-fly resting on her son’s budding horn. Wondering at the strange events, she called out, “Come, the danger is past and we may venture out to eat.”
“But, Mama, you said I should hide by night and only go out at first and last lights.”
“That is what I had said, however, I didn’t realize how clever my little Pink-nose would be to cover himself in the charred grass.
“I’m clever, Mama?”
“Oh yes!”
“Clever AND special?”
“Yes but it’s best not to be boastful of your accomplishments, Little One." She led him to where the water bubbled from a rock just over their heads. The water cut a small, muddy stream along the cliff and then wandered lazily through the meadow. As they drank, they were visited by tiny orange frogs that seemed to be curious about these visitors to their stream. The single glow-fly that had rested on his horn vanished as Snow Moon bent to examine the tiny amphibians.
“Look, Mama, the tiny People make the water twinkle!”
“Frogs – they are called frogs. And I see! Where the frogs swim the water is clear. But do you think they make it clear or do they swim there because it is clear?”
"Oh, I think they make it clear so we can see how pretty they are!"
Sweet Grass thought to herself how strange and marvelous it is to see through the eyes of a child. “My clever …”
“And special, Mama!”
“And special, little stallion, the water has cleansed the ash from your muzzle. You must again darken it with ash, then I’ll show you how to use a horn to gather tree fruits.”
Frightened bird calls startled them awake! “Listen, Snow Moon, our friends, the night birds are warning that some danger is near. Your play in the ash has concealed your whiteness and you must now be still and hide your mind. Think only of empty darkness like the back of the cave. Do not move and be mind quite!”
Sweet Grass moved slowly and silently away from Snow Moon. She kept a close eye on his location while scanning for what had startled the birds. Suddenly a cloud of glow-flies illuminated the night to her right. In their light she could see the cave lion crouched low and testing the air with its nose.
Thankful that the ash should conceal Snow Moon’s scent as well as his color, she made ready to sprint if the cat caught her scent. If the lion sensed her prescience, she was ready to lead him away from where her son lay hidden.
Noise filled the air as the glow-flies began a sound that seemed bigger than they were. Swooping and diving they began circling the lion with a maddening strobe light display. The cat no longer able to conceal himself from his prey gave up and bounded away. He was followed up the cliff face by the annoying glow-flies.
Once she was sure that the lion was truly gone, she turned her attention to Snow Moon and was startled to find a single glow-fly resting on her son’s budding horn. Wondering at the strange events, she called out, “Come, the danger is past and we may venture out to eat.”
“But, Mama, you said I should hide by night and only go out at first and last lights.”
“That is what I had said, however, I didn’t realize how clever my little Pink-nose would be to cover himself in the charred grass.
“I’m clever, Mama?”
“Oh yes!”
“Clever AND special?”
“Yes but it’s best not to be boastful of your accomplishments, Little One." She led him to where the water bubbled from a rock just over their heads. The water cut a small, muddy stream along the cliff and then wandered lazily through the meadow. As they drank, they were visited by tiny orange frogs that seemed to be curious about these visitors to their stream. The single glow-fly that had rested on his horn vanished as Snow Moon bent to examine the tiny amphibians.
“Look, Mama, the tiny People make the water twinkle!”
“Frogs – they are called frogs. And I see! Where the frogs swim the water is clear. But do you think they make it clear or do they swim there because it is clear?”
"Oh, I think they make it clear so we can see how pretty they are!"
Sweet Grass thought to herself how strange and marvelous it is to see through the eyes of a child. “My clever …”
“And special, Mama!”
“And special, little stallion, the water has cleansed the ash from your muzzle. You must again darken it with ash, then I’ll show you how to use a horn to gather tree fruits.”
Dragon Moon - a work in progress 2
2.
Green grew the grass through the black char. Tender shoots, not yet color changed and not yet tall enough to eat, marked the path of last moon’s fire. Yet in sheltered spots tall violet grasses still grew. These were the food they sought, the nourishment they needed.
Sweet Grass gazed in loving amazement at her son. In her heart she pondered the works of the god, who had provided her with this perfect, healthy child. A child that would have been abandoned by the herd because of the whiteness of his coat. Except he had not been abandoned. The god had provided a distraction in the fire. Fire, bearer of destruction, had saved her son! What mysteries the god works!
As she watched in the early morning light, he played in the blackened meadow, kicking up great clouds of ash. Running, jumping, rolling over on the ground in childish wonder.
“Come to me, Snow Moon,” she mind-cast. “It is time to continue your learning of the Dance of Ancestors.”
Out of the cloud of ash he emerged. “Look, Mama, I’m the same color as you!” he exclaimed in glee.
Surprise and thoughtfulness tinged her voice as she remarked, “Yes! Yes you are!”
Nudging him into position beside her she again began the Dance of Ancestors.
“Why do I need to know about all those people?” his impatience showing as he longed to return to his play rather than practice the long and stylized dance.
“So that when you greet new people they will know who you are and you will know who they are.”
“But there aren’t any other people.”
“Oh, my pink-nosed son, there is a whole world full of people in many herds.”
“Then why are we the only ones here?”
The moment had come that she had been dreading. How was she to explain that his ‘deformity’ had made them both outcasts from their family and friends? Delicately she began, “You are a special child, marked by the god for a special purpose. Your bright skin and red eyes make you different from the rest of the people.
“I’m special?”
“Oh yes! The streams of life that you will follow will be unlike any your ancestors have followed.”
“Will they dance a different dance for me, Mama?”
“Indeed they will! Yes indeed! Come, let’s begin again!”
The lesson repeated until it was done twice through with no errors. Then sleep over took them in what shade the fire ravaged trees could afford.
Green grew the grass through the black char. Tender shoots, not yet color changed and not yet tall enough to eat, marked the path of last moon’s fire. Yet in sheltered spots tall violet grasses still grew. These were the food they sought, the nourishment they needed.
Sweet Grass gazed in loving amazement at her son. In her heart she pondered the works of the god, who had provided her with this perfect, healthy child. A child that would have been abandoned by the herd because of the whiteness of his coat. Except he had not been abandoned. The god had provided a distraction in the fire. Fire, bearer of destruction, had saved her son! What mysteries the god works!
As she watched in the early morning light, he played in the blackened meadow, kicking up great clouds of ash. Running, jumping, rolling over on the ground in childish wonder.
“Come to me, Snow Moon,” she mind-cast. “It is time to continue your learning of the Dance of Ancestors.”
Out of the cloud of ash he emerged. “Look, Mama, I’m the same color as you!” he exclaimed in glee.
Surprise and thoughtfulness tinged her voice as she remarked, “Yes! Yes you are!”
Nudging him into position beside her she again began the Dance of Ancestors.
“Why do I need to know about all those people?” his impatience showing as he longed to return to his play rather than practice the long and stylized dance.
“So that when you greet new people they will know who you are and you will know who they are.”
“But there aren’t any other people.”
“Oh, my pink-nosed son, there is a whole world full of people in many herds.”
“Then why are we the only ones here?”
The moment had come that she had been dreading. How was she to explain that his ‘deformity’ had made them both outcasts from their family and friends? Delicately she began, “You are a special child, marked by the god for a special purpose. Your bright skin and red eyes make you different from the rest of the people.
“I’m special?”
“Oh yes! The streams of life that you will follow will be unlike any your ancestors have followed.”
“Will they dance a different dance for me, Mama?”
“Indeed they will! Yes indeed! Come, let’s begin again!”
The lesson repeated until it was done twice through with no errors. Then sleep over took them in what shade the fire ravaged trees could afford.
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