Tuesday howls and yowls, shapeshifter lovers.
I wondered how one of our own in Talbot's Peak would view Memorial Day. White Fang, my super wolf hero, spoke to me for this flash scene.
White Fang ~ A Shapeshifter Memorial
The wildness of the tall-tree forest raced through him as White Fang loped along the trail -- still damp and slick from the lightning storm that had blown through during the night hours.
White Fang kept his pace steady, sure-footed. He breathed in the new-growth pine, springtime's chlorophyl-rich leaves, and the blood-tangy scent of foraging creatures.
The afternoon winds kissed his muzzle, stroked his fur, then slipped over his tail. Feeling the not-to-be-ignored tug of his soul, he'd decided on this small pilgrimage to the isolated mountain lookout he favored most, on what American humans called Memorial Day.
Even though, Earth was not his native planet, White Fang had gradually developed a fondness for Mother Earth. Between his investigations as a crime reporter, he'd explored her splendid untamed terrains. Now, as his paws struck her fecund surface, Gaia's varied harmonies, her forest song flowed through him, fierce as a jolt of electricity.
Seeing the familiar tower of rock, the gateway to his lookout cathedral, White Fang slowed his gait. Sunlight and shadow played over the shades of gray, and he took moments to appreciate nature's beauty.
Once he stood on the rock shelf overlooking the monumental grandeur of the valley, White Fang slowly shifted to his human form. The need to honor the fallen warriors and warrioresses of his homeworld burned like a blazing torch inside him.
The wolven shapeshifters who had bravely battled, and given their lives to protect their families, their kind, their world... his world, lived again for long moments before his mind's eye. He'd witnessed every battle as part of his education, his warrior training.
Some of the fallen had been his ancestors, and White Fang accessed his genetic memories. Opening his arms wide, he offered his sacred heart, his eternal gratitude.
Once the conflicts, the warfare had ended on his home planet, the gift of physical immortality had been bestowed by the creator gods and goddesses. Currently, most of the fallen had incarnated, becoming guardians of the wolven people.
White Fang swept his gaze over the magnificent rock face of the mountainside. After listening to the deep trombone tones of the ancient stone, he recalled each and every shapeshifter he'd known, or knew of, who had sacrificed their lives in battle. Had died for the sake of their kind, to protect their family, their pack, their mate -- to save all those they loved.
As their images appeared, he honored each one of them. Finally lowering his arms, White Fang stood in the stillness, the silence -- that which was truth and goodness and universal justice.
The sun's rays embraced him, streamed inside him, a sacred and powerful guiding light. With his eyes still closed, White Fang morphed to his wolven self.
He sat on his haunches, quietly taking in the spectacular wonders around him. Once the shadows lengthened, and the mountain peak claimed the sun, he trotted toward the trail that would take him home to Pasha, the cat goddess he loved.
Home, to Talbot's Peak.
Wishing you shapeshifting love on the wild side…
Savanna Kougar ~ Run on the Wild Side of Romance