I go where I'm pulled and when I give up control I'm running naked through woodland, a bow in my hand.
'The high places aren't for hunting, they're to watch' the voice says. I nod and continue to run until the animal comes into sight. Mid-run and with more skill than I know I have, I shoot the animal, a beautiful white deer down.
It falls, bloodied and breathing heavily as it pants out it's last breaths.
Acting on instinct, I unsheath a knife that was carried around my waist and put the animal out of it's misery. I stab it in the heart, I gut it and I mark myself, my breast with the blood.
'There is always a price' the voice says. 'A vision doesn't come for free'
I go to the high seat, a place in a tree used to watch the animals and I look at the cloak and headdress.
But then I'm in a clearing and it's suddenly night, primal drums beating to firelight. I'm being confronted, told what is, told what I must do next. Things are explained. An offering is demanded, a gift for the vision and I agree.
'Go' she says 'this is a vision within a vision and you are still to collect, the rest of what you seek will come later. Things are going to happen much faster now'. I go back to the high seat, don the cloak and headdress and climb up.
The height dizzies me and I look over the land again,the animal trails crisscrossing down below. A map for the hunter. I see people, lands and places, things I've already seen and things I'm yet to come across. I know when it's my time to part. I leave the high seat and run back through the forest the way I came, this time in hunt of my own body.
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2 comments:
Thanks for sharing that hunt. I'll go back and see if I can retrace the steps.
Good to find you.
Better still on the next read. Lots in there and I now have a 20 year old Monteray pine tree ready to climb. I'll read up the stuff about high places first.
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