Why this Blog?

I hope that this blog will become a place to look after my writing ideas and that, over time, I can use it to archive all my favourite creative sites on the web. Maybe others will enjoy it too.

Wednesday, 10 April 2013

Secrets that men keep

Tonight I fill in a section. I realised today that Moon Dancer doesn't eat or drink on his quest for about four days. Okay, that's fine, I guess, but there's no way he can't drink in that time. He'd be mad with thirst, something I haven't even mentioned. Okay, the lack of hunger is fine, I guess, but the lack of thirst? Unforgivable!

So, tonight I thought to simply edit that section a little and then move onto new stuff. Instead we have an additional discussion in which I learned more about how males operate in this society I am creating. Also, a little about how the sexes are viewed by men, I hope that came out right. Anyway, another conversation that I hope retains enough of the poetry of previous entries to stand with them.

Analysis from 750words.com as always:

Rating: PG (sexual content) - not sure where that is. I guess one of them is naked?

Feeling mostly self expressive and concerned mostly with religion

Mindset: Introvert - Positive - Uncertain - Thinking (very male?)

Time: the Future; Primary Sense: Sight (damn); Us and Them: You

22 minutes at 36 words per minute





Together they drank from the water in Shadow of the Stag's skins that he had collected the day before. Food was offered but, despite his hunger, Moon Dancer was not yet ready to eat. Water was enough. Tepid after a day being held and stored but fresh and beautiful on his parched lips. Handing the skin back, he stood and looked around with fresh eyes.

"A Great Spirit you seek?" asked Shadow of the Stag with a kindly smile in his words, "Seek it but you will not find, not afterwards."

Part of him wanted to ask how the older man knew, but he already knew the answer, all men had gone through some defining moment in their quest and so it was natural to assume that he had seen something that was private and only for him. Or was it only private? "Do men speak of what they see?"

A grunt, noncommittal, and then a long pause. Returning the now empty skin to his belt the older man joined Moon Dancer in standing, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on his new companion, regarding him and weighing him. Around them the night was quiet except for the rustling of leaves and the low buzzing of some insects. It was close to the middle of the darkness where no animals stirred and humans would doze more fitfully. In the clan the elders sometimes used this time to share comments that would cause the whole group to chuckle, though he had never understood their meaning, or to wake. Never had there been danger to his knowledge though sometimes the brood-mother would wake and depart, only to return later. Other times brood-mothers would change or his life-giver would appear. Most of the time he had stayed asleep.

"Bogs," announced the older man suddenly, "In fens and bogs I saw the Great Spirit. No running, as with you, but walking and waiting. Longer it was too, but no lack of water was there in fenland nor lack of food. Eating and drinking. Through four kisses of Brother Sun and three blessings of Sister Moon waited did I for something." A sigh, as though sad, and his eyes were closed again. "How can man know when time is come what to expect? How can man know of a future in the present and know what is to come?"

Moon Dancer realised that this was not a question that demanded an answer like those asked in the clan. Men operated in a different fashion.

"When I am a man I know. But when I am a boy I do not know. I am a man. I saw Great Spirit in the deep of the waters, in the soil claimed by the sea. Under guidance of Brother Sun, who brought me light that I might see; and spirits all round, who brought me bravery that I might wait; and the sky of blue, who brought me wisdom that I might know what I saw. Yes, Man, men speak of what they have seen." Eyes open again, lithe body making preparations to move. "But know that no man shares unless that man wishes. No man nor woman nor spirit nor animal will make a man share his tale without a man willing. Like life-givers grant not life without willing nor woman grant pleasure without willing so no man grants knowledge without willing."

Nodding, Moon Dancer agreed and understood. "My warmth to you."

"No," firm, yet smiling, "No, we are men, cub, and so we speak in different tongues. Men have no warmth, for how can man bring forth life? Man brings cold but gifts. We cannot offer warmth, only gifts." A hand outstretched, "My gift is my guidance. Accepted?"

"I accept. My gift is my understanding."

"You learn like an adder moves, young cub, I am no liar when I say I shall learn much from you." Shadow of the Stag suddenly looked less forbidding in the darkness, less tall and more approachable. "We must collect what you need for your journey. We must go to the Lodge once again. There your shaman will bequeath you one more companion for our journey, a secret name that you and only you will hold. Some may ask it of you but you must only share it in time of great need. Secret names are power and power is to be wielded by those who have it not by those it may be given to."

"I do not see."

"And nor can I make you see. Only by sight itself will you see. Come, child of the night, walk with me to the day."