08-08-2011, 02:10 PM
The cool night was soothing to the male as he sat on the edge of the small pool of water. The Grandfathers Tears held certain spiritual qualities for the male- most running water did. One dark paw lay in the water itself, connecting his soul to the water around him. Hania sat in his usual spot on his head, body draped down the back of his neck while his little tail hooked over his shoulder. Small paws rested on the crest of his head as well as the margay's upper body. Nahele didnt understand why the small spirit guide wished to be up at the heights that he did- he stood at a large 7 foot and towered over most. But the guide seemed pleased to be up so high. In some respects Nahele thought Hania wanted to be a bird, up so high and without limits. For the most part, the male slept on Nahele's head, a constant purr emitting from the margay. The Guardian was pleased that the male chose to stay invisible to most- he couldn't imagine the end to the issues he would have if Hania was visible, atop his head like a strange living crown.
His bow lay at his side, the large pouch of arrow head open. While one hand rested on the water in his peaceful moment where he chose to reflect on life, the other slowly gathered the downy feathers left by ducks, geese and swans that swam around here. They were of no use to him- his arrows needed strong fletches than downy feathers. But there was always a use to something and he gathered them in a soft pile by his left knee. Dull golden eyes were intent over the water, the moon high and bright, providing all the light he needed. In these peaceful, calm times, Nahele was almost rational and human. It was when he opened his mouth that things came out unbidden, unchecked.
His bow lay at his side, the large pouch of arrow head open. While one hand rested on the water in his peaceful moment where he chose to reflect on life, the other slowly gathered the downy feathers left by ducks, geese and swans that swam around here. They were of no use to him- his arrows needed strong fletches than downy feathers. But there was always a use to something and he gathered them in a soft pile by his left knee. Dull golden eyes were intent over the water, the moon high and bright, providing all the light he needed. In these peaceful, calm times, Nahele was almost rational and human. It was when he opened his mouth that things came out unbidden, unchecked.