Stampede

The bosk moved this way and that and I let them direct my own movements for a while. I was buying time, you see. Trying to think of a way out of this, and on to the appointed task. A tasty one at that. I glanced up briefly, noting that i was not at the moment under the gaze of that surly stubborn old coot. I took that opportunity to breath a bit easier and search for a viable path. Just as i spotted a parting up ahead, i also realized that i was being shoved and pushed more intently. A sudden swell of panic began, first as a mild fluttering deep inside, then growing to grasp hold of my throat and tighten it. My legs trembled, and my hands grew moist in the grip around the bowl. It wouldn't take much more coaxing and this whole group of beasts were going to start, en masse, for whatever direction the determined bosk with me in his sights had.

Great! A stampede, and all because of..me. I could suddenly see the future... the Outriders surely called to quell the unrest, herding the animals to a calmer place, eyeing me suspiciously. I could hope they wouldn't recognize me, yes? To bring such shame to my Master and Mistress would be...just...awful

And then, as seems to happen in the midst of my panic, I remembered. The first time, after the first time, when He found me. It had been an ordinary day without much to set it apart from the others. I had settled into my own rhythms, tending my chores in the order that seemed to work best for all involved. This day i was working on grooming the bosk. It is not often that i am able to seriously work on the bosk, though it is a part of my duties, and i see to them whenever possible. Master has quite a lot of the animals, and most times they are in some state of flux...moving from one pasture of sweet grass to another, or edged toward a drinking spot, or just given free roaming. Tending all of them in one day is nearly impossible, so i move among them, searching out the ones most in need of me. My specialty is removing prickly burs that might irritate the skin and cause sores. I had crouched next to a behemoth, reddish brown in color, and was intently working on a fistful of tangled hair.

When bosk move, it is a slow, lumbering kind of shift in the air and rumble in the earth. They meander at times, and just stand still at others. There is heat, and a scent like no other, and the occasional bony report of horn against horn. When they are herded, the hot air moistens a bit and becomes heavier, and little eddies of air twist around. Sudden jostling had alerted me that the bosk were getting aggitated and as i pushed myself upward to get a better look, dust and debris pinged against my face. I couldn't stand easily, as i was now being pushed ...hard...from several directions. I could see the swarm of dark shaggy beasts beginning to move in unison, like a great turbulent river. Above them, to the side, I spotted a Rider and i began a frantic shout and wave, hoping to alert him that i was in the middle of this all. Recognition came next, and my shouts grew more frantic, trying to capture the attention of Him, my Master. I could feel the bruising of my ribs, and my foot was almost smashed beneath one of those massive ones, and i sunk a fist into a handful of bosk hide trying to stay aloft.

I thought i would never get His attention, and then i did. A steady look fell upon me as He drew His windscarf down, down, down...revealing a twisted bit of a smile. As soon as He glanced at me, He looked away and i was simultaneously flung aside against another animal. Like a great parting of a stream by a magician's wand, a pathway opened up before me. It curled and snaked, but allowed me a prancing escape, and run through that column to freedom i did!

It delivered me about 50 paces in front of the kaiila that bore Master Fonce, and i turned in jubilant gratefulness for His adept handling and my rescue. The look He leveled upon me no longer bore the smile, but instead held that hint of wicked smirk at the corner of His mouth. His beast snorted, then pawed the ground eagerly and, without a motion i could detect...both kaiila and rider started toward me. It was not in a manner that could be considered a slow gait, nor a mild trot. It was full out tearing up the grass and dirt....pursuit. Maybe He was still trying to free me from possible harm from the bosk, but the bosk were already settling into a slow leisurely walk away from where i stood. Maybe He was merely coming to see about my welfare, but adrenaline and fear had me jumping out of my skin and in response, flight took over. I was no match for Him.

Fifteen long strides across bumpy land and He had me, one strong grasp of my arm and i swung upward like a baby's toy, landing roughly against the saddle in front of Him. A few tugs and my own attempts at righting myself earned me a steely chest to sink into, and all the particular smells of His essence swept over me as i tried to catch my breath. Safety was written in a rush of relief as i held onto Him dearly, and when i looked up with both tears and laughter bubbling to the surface in some uncanny inability to have a grip on my emotions, i was handed a new set of feelings to deal with.

The glint of something sinister pooled in the depths of His eyes. And there before the sky and a herd of disinterested bosk, Brave Warrior Fonce took as He pleased. I was frightened, and wholly unexpecting. I had grown accustomed to thinking...believing...i moved among the sheltered recesses of the shadows of His life. I had watched Him take hold of the dreams He had tossed aside at our first meetings, bolstering them with a sense of purpose, moral convictions, and a good helping of desire to both secure the future of the Lady Artisan, and entrust Her with His most vulnerable hopes and fears. I had even, admittedly, begun to reexamine my own dreams, and the context in which i had believed them to unfold. This...didn't fit into my thinking.

His hands were rough, His handling impatient, but it was not anger (this time) that fueled Him; this i could tell. I felt... twisted and manipulated...taunted madly with His intentions that were stroked upon the softest parts of my flesh. My reactions were beyond me, warming instinctively with the sudden shift of leather against skin. Surprise sparked my features, fueling His curved smile, and energizing the quickened movements that joined us together, thundered furiously through every cell of my body and then left me panting and aching in a tumble against the ground. I would recall that I made noises i have never heard before. I would find a blossom of bruises around my neck. I would wonder if he had tasted my skin. I would remember, with utter clarity, the command He took of my very person, from the inside out. And as quickly as the stampede began, the ravage ended.

And i realized my savior was the instigator. My protector, the hunter. And i ... helpless against the madly swinging sensations that stole everything from my mind and left only Him visible. A conundrum of the utmost degree.

"I wanted a perfect ending. Now I've learned, the hard way, that some poems don't rhyme, and some stories don't have a clear beginning, middle, and end. Life is about not knowing, having to change, taking the moment and making the best of it, without knowing what's going to happen next. Delicious ambiguity." - Gilda Radner 1946 - 1989

That He would be on the hunt tonight.