My favourite time is when darkness falls over the land that is the time I am able to leave my shelter and roam. Most of the villagers remain behind closed door after nightfall as they fear the dark. There are many fearsome creatures that roam the night but I am slight, fleet of foot and there is more to me than meets the eye and none have yet managed to catch me.
I love the moon in all her glory and tonight she shines with a lustrous glow. Her candescent light turns the night into a blue white theatre stage, just for me. I twist and twirl as I dance through trees and ferns, and as I move the night song emanates from my throat. A soaring melody that links together all living beings into the web of life, if you were out in the night you would see the threads of music floating between tree and plant, animal and water and rock. This is my joy this is my reason to live.
I am Moon Shadow; weaver of light but because I come out at night I am considered to be of the dark. Everything created by the Mother has two sides. The choice always lies with the creation to choose to be dark or to be light and I choose the moonlight of the dark night.
I danced and sang with moon, enthralled with the silvery trails of light I cast I was not as observant as I should have been and I was caught in a sticky web that wrapped around me so I couldn’t move. I was trapped and I could not break free no matter how frantically I tried, my song dried up in my panic. Despairingly I watched the moon journey across the sky and set.
As morning light reached through the trees I heard voices coming closer.
“Nothing much to show for a night’s trapping” muttered in a rough harsh voice.
A softer voice replied. “Still time, we haven’t cleared half the traps”.
As they came around the tree they saw me, human shaped, skin and hair all shaded indigo, black and pearlescent white, trapped in their web.
“Well, well, well. Looks like we hit the jackpot” said Rough Voice an older man, grey hairs and dressed in old well worn leathers.
“What is it” asked Soft Voice
“I don’t know and I don’t care” Rough Voice replied, “its exotic and it will bring you and me a lot of gold.”
I hung limply in the sticky webbing and from lowered eyes watched them come closer. I could smell the dead animals they wore and could see pixies and hobs tied by their legs hanging from a pole and hear animals scrabbling in tied sacks.
These men were not of the village, they were strangers, trappers. They did not belong in our forest, they had no respect. On me lay the responsibility for the lives they held and measured only in money.
The rough voiced man came up close to the net. “Whatever it is it is female” he said “I know plenty of brothels that like a bit of exotic”
I hung there, not responding in any way, not showing any understanding of what was being said.
Rough Voice grabbed my hair and pulled my head back. “Cut her down” he ordered Soft Voice.
He yanked my hair back harder, my eyes began to open a reflection of the moon’s gleam began to glow. I felt the tugging as Soft Voice cut the strands. My lids drifted back down hiding my eyes.
Rough Voice’s hand gripped my breast and squeezed, pulled me hard against him grinding himself against me. With the last cut I was freed from the trap, sticky strand still surrounded me but I could again move. Rough Voice spun me around in his arms and roughly shoved me to the ground as he hastily untied his trousers. Dropping down on top of me he shoved my legs apart as he went to enter me he looked up into my moonlight eyes. He froze as my gaze bore into his eyes. I reared up and my teeth entered his throat.
As I consumed his blood I began to glow; ebon, pearl and indigo light flowed from my skin. I shoved Rough Voice’s dead body aside and lithely came to my feet. Soft Voice was making a mewling sound backing away; I leapt across the distance and grabbed him by the throat my talons pricking his skin. The sounds he was making reminded me of a newborn kit. I could smell his fear and that he had soiled himself. I stared into his eyes, and then thrust him away.
“Go, now, or die” I said
He pushed himself to his feet and took off.
I moved over to the pixies and hobs, I could smell their fear and I had to rein in my desire to rend. With one swipe of my talon I freed them all.
“Go” I snarled.
Finally I released the animals in the sack, they knew to run.
It is time for me to return to my shelter and to balance myself. The villagers are right to fear the dark. There are many fearsome creatures that roam the night and I am one of them. I am Moon Shadow; weaver of light one of Mother’s creations that must choose to be dark or to be light and I always choose the moonlight of the dark night to sing my night song.
