Creature of the Wood

July 7, 2016 § Leave a comment

Word Portrait.

They are the primal wild come home to dwell. Dressed in court finery, the gilt and glamoured gleaming of Sidhe regality. They move like dancing, like a hunting cat, like a courting crane. They are a horned creature dancing around the Solstice fires, head high and crowned in holly leaves, or perhaps in laurel or in ivy. Yet there is no ferality here, but an older kind of civility, the gentry of another world: a fanged smile, gilded hooves, an elegant bow.
They are the heavy shadows beneath ancient tree roots given form in city and court. There is an intensity and a deepness in their gaze, the world woven into a dance between two spirits.  They are an elemental force and there is something fey about them, a glamourie of searing passion to draw in the touch-hungry and bright-eyed. Nowhere else will you meet a more gentle and charming hunter.
The Sidhe are always hungry and ever yearning, after all.
They are coiled grace and passion wound taut beneath the skin. There is a core of them that is incandescent and pulsing, a fire that needs so so much fuel to sustain it and yet gives out warmth and light and heat in return. That heart can scorch and sear and burn, too; no creature survives long without defenses.
(Can you glimpse such a heart without going blind, without burning your sight out, like looking into the heart of the earth, like looking into the sun? Will you be elf-struck and lose yourself? Or are you a thing of wildness and brightness and darkness as well, who can walk into fire and wood and cave and come out again?)
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