Hot, mad and undetected, the tear leapt from her chin to her chest as she ran along the Yukon River.
Is it just a female thing? she exclaimed out loud as she slowed to a fast walk, Why do I always end up fighting with the power hungry and unyielding males?
I just want to be part of the pack, she thought in frustration, to be let in, let alone, given a place and purpose, understood. I don’t want to fight.
By the time she reached the end of the cove and stopped to look around, her mind was afire with fear of the unknown. How would she ever fix her situation, let alone survive it?
She noticed Raven nearby playing in the updrafts, high above the river bank. For such a large, formidable bird, from a distance, his silhouette made him look more like a hawk owl than a raven. Knowing he couldn’t hear her, she screamed in his direction, “It’s not fair, this game of life!”.
His acrobatic tricks were exquisite as he soared just above the tallest spruce and she realized that he was making RiverTime. Over and over, he folded and molded his wings and body into flips and arcs, spins and circles, and then rolled down and up again into the sky. He was a kite in the wind held by the hand of God, and she couldn’t take her eyes off of him. Raven mocked and toyed with the wind and played his fears like music as he painted the sky with his wings. He was RiverTime and it was him, Free, Alive and Unafraid.
[Above word count: 272]