The Moon-Daughter

[Jess]

For as far back as I remember..
it's only the light of your creation that has watched over me.
Starved and dying, it was your blessing that allowed me to survive.

Your silent whispers prodding my instincts.
Teaching me to hunt like all of your children.
To praise the spirits, and appreciate nature.

The balance of life and death.

Yet I am afraid.
So long I've been away from others.
Their words are almost foreign to my ears, their cities cut off from the wilds you've illuminated.
I will be brave for you, She Who Carved The Moon.

Just let me watch a little longer.

I'll go soon, I promise.

[Jess]

So long I spent, wrapped in the fur you blessed me with.
Sometimes it was hard to remember I was human at all.
The thrill of the hunt, the satisfaction of claiming prey.
Years passed as the Spirits quietly whispered.

The only anchor to my humanity for all that time.
Their voices, and the memories.
Mother's laugh, father's hand atop my head.
All the small things that threaten to fade as time wears on.
All the small things they left to remember them by.

I walk on two legs, I speak like them now, and yet..
Do I truly feel human?
When every time I turn around, I find myself on four paws.
Slipping between shapes as the barrier between them grows thin.
As the beast within grows in strength.

I don't know if I'll ever feel content amongst 'my own kind' any longer.
Not when the hunt calls to my very soul.
Yet as time goes on..? As the blood of prey sprays across my tongue?
I realize maybe it's best if I don't feel such a way.

After all, a content huntress.. is no huntress at all.

[Jess]

They've forgotten..

I realized as the tree emerged from the fertile soil.
Only I shed blood in the name of the Spirits.
Only I honored the traditions of old.

Crimson splattered the ground, but only in a single rhythm.
In my heart I know there should have been more.
A percussive orchestra of ichor meant to beat a song against the soil.
To nourish the earth, and honor those beings we claim to cherish.

Perhaps my isolation spared me this fate, of being drawn away from tradition.
Was this the reason then? That you spared me a cruel fate as a kit?
Don't worry, I will teach them.

They will remember.

[Jess]

I hear them now, better than ever.
In every leaf, rock, and stream.
The voices of nature, of those beings that reside behind the curtain.
They recognize me as a friend, as one who aids their plight.

My blood nourishes them, as does the blood I spill.
I tell the legends, of creation, of beginning.
I help them remember where we came from.
Why we do what we do.

Yet doing these things helps me as well.
Each action is a show of faith, strengthening my own resolve.
My connection to you grows stronger, and the pride of the hunt sings to my soul.

My two halves grow closer, a harmony of beast and man.
For the first time I can remember, I'm beginning to feel whole.