The Faerie and the Wolf

I am a faerie. I am performing trapeze stunts with the faerie friends I knew a long time ago, when I was a little girl. We are in the lair of the wizard and the wolf. We are teasing the wolf, swinging over and above his head, just beyond his reach. He beholds me with an amused confidence, a predatory knowing; belying the notion that he is not merely a dumb or primitive animal.

Curious I fly downward, closer to him, to greet him. Cautious, child-like … charmed. He is an intangible and alien beauty … and as I behold the potency of his maleness, I know attraction and arousal.

It is in this moment that he is transformed into something more … something Other. Wolf but not yet wolf, man but yet not man, faerie but not yet faerie. An ineffable humanoid being, a primitive, intellectual, mystical thing, which is all at once wolf and human and faerie, but at the same time nothing like any of them at all. He is Perfect Presence, but what he Is, I cannot say. I too am transformed from my diminutive size to a very tall and graceful lady.

He is now standing before me and his body is now very close to mine. The gaze within which we are trapped is a very intimate, very charged, very emotional affair. It is then that we decide to go on a “date”, on which I would share with him all the wonders of the faerie world. We both shrink to my original tiny size and I grab his paw as we slip outside into the dark of night.

We wend our way through the darkness and nightfall, until we reach an enchanted forest, where the woods are alive with the fragrance of eternal autumn.

We fly from tree top to tree top, from tree branch to tree branch, leaving a stream of faerie dust behind us, even as we send a beam of glowing energy and light up ahead of us to determine the irregular flow of our path. It is on this path that we zip line through the trees. Flying on the backs of birds and fallen leaves we romp and play and soar and trip until The Dreaming shifts and I depart to another realm.