Evander and the Wolves
Mar. 12th, 2023 06:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
smokingbootIt was the name I heard at the end of my dreaming, which was half awake, half not, images floating in and out of my head. I love mornings like this; I was awake early in the dark, before the birds, I think, waiting and dreaming as the silence lifted, and snow covered the world. I didn't get up, but just enjoyed the luxury of stretching my toes and falling back into sleep. The images come and make stories, and I enjoy all the weirdness of my senses. I'm not saying it's always easy to be this way, but sometimes it's excellent; and for the life of me I can't swear to being awake or asleep when it happens.
So there I was, passing close to some kind of stockade with a line of wolves heads on wooden spikes outside the gates, a gory pitiful sight. I would avoid the place, but the guards have seen me, and I'm marched in to the chieftain's hall, which is a large dark roundhouse affair, not exactly Rohan.
He's a huge brute covered in furs, under which there's a lot of armour. It's almost a bit Conan, but not, as the place is bloody freezing, so no loincloth and sandal prancing here. He asks some questions but not many, in fact I can't remember any of them; he tells me to take my armour off, and I do, reluctantly. Then he tells me to take everything else off, and I do because there's no choice. He looks at me for a few seconds, tells me sex is going to happen, but allows me to dress myself again, and stew and some rough wine is brought to me. The food's in wooden bowls and cups though the only utensil is bread. I eat demurely. Then I ask if I may bathe. He likes that and tells his guards to take me to some whatever, I don't know, til I am outside and understand more of 'the stockade.'
It's a much bigger place than I realised;this is the remains of a Roman settlement, and there were/are baths here probably fallen into ruin, though not ancient. Looking at it, it can't be more than 10, 15 years since the Romans left. This is where he got his wine, there are probably old supply stores here. He likes the idea of Rome, of being an inheritor to all that. No-one here uses what's left of the baths. He stinks doubtless, and anyone he sleeps with, indeed anyone at all in this place, probably stinks too, but he likes my niceness, these touches of civilisation. And I wonder if he's Arthur, because Arthur comes from Bear and he's big; but something tells me he's just a local chieftain, that they are all living on scraps really, and he's the boss because he kills the wolf packs in the area. Clearly there are many.
And because no-one's expecting it, or really concentrating, I just break away and (can't remember) get over the wall, to find myself finding the cinquin something/ made up word tunnel, which goes right under the greenwood. I run into it as fast as I can, wondering why I can't hear anyone follow. The answer greets me; I run right into an underground cavern with a family of wolves in it. I back out slowly, but that's not going to be enough; the fam are not pleased, and pursue. I only get away from them by shedding an old skin, a persona, casting it to the ground for them to maul. I hear the name 'Evander.'
And then I woke. The house is warm, the cats are fed, the snow is outside and I feel good.
This morning is the healthiest I have felt since the end of our last covid bout, perhaps even before that.The exhaustion which made it so difficult to write or even read seems to be leaving me. Evander, I will try to find out more about you; I don't know if you are the story, or my avatar just looking for tales, but I'm glad you're awake.
So there I was, passing close to some kind of stockade with a line of wolves heads on wooden spikes outside the gates, a gory pitiful sight. I would avoid the place, but the guards have seen me, and I'm marched in to the chieftain's hall, which is a large dark roundhouse affair, not exactly Rohan.
He's a huge brute covered in furs, under which there's a lot of armour. It's almost a bit Conan, but not, as the place is bloody freezing, so no loincloth and sandal prancing here. He asks some questions but not many, in fact I can't remember any of them; he tells me to take my armour off, and I do, reluctantly. Then he tells me to take everything else off, and I do because there's no choice. He looks at me for a few seconds, tells me sex is going to happen, but allows me to dress myself again, and stew and some rough wine is brought to me. The food's in wooden bowls and cups though the only utensil is bread. I eat demurely. Then I ask if I may bathe. He likes that and tells his guards to take me to some whatever, I don't know, til I am outside and understand more of 'the stockade.'
It's a much bigger place than I realised;this is the remains of a Roman settlement, and there were/are baths here probably fallen into ruin, though not ancient. Looking at it, it can't be more than 10, 15 years since the Romans left. This is where he got his wine, there are probably old supply stores here. He likes the idea of Rome, of being an inheritor to all that. No-one here uses what's left of the baths. He stinks doubtless, and anyone he sleeps with, indeed anyone at all in this place, probably stinks too, but he likes my niceness, these touches of civilisation. And I wonder if he's Arthur, because Arthur comes from Bear and he's big; but something tells me he's just a local chieftain, that they are all living on scraps really, and he's the boss because he kills the wolf packs in the area. Clearly there are many.
And because no-one's expecting it, or really concentrating, I just break away and (can't remember) get over the wall, to find myself finding the cinquin something/ made up word tunnel, which goes right under the greenwood. I run into it as fast as I can, wondering why I can't hear anyone follow. The answer greets me; I run right into an underground cavern with a family of wolves in it. I back out slowly, but that's not going to be enough; the fam are not pleased, and pursue. I only get away from them by shedding an old skin, a persona, casting it to the ground for them to maul. I hear the name 'Evander.'
And then I woke. The house is warm, the cats are fed, the snow is outside and I feel good.
This morning is the healthiest I have felt since the end of our last covid bout, perhaps even before that.The exhaustion which made it so difficult to write or even read seems to be leaving me. Evander, I will try to find out more about you; I don't know if you are the story, or my avatar just looking for tales, but I'm glad you're awake.
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Date: 2023-03-12 01:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-03-14 10:38 am (UTC)