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Jan. 5th, 2013
"Hard drinking is really tough when you're soft spoken." Owl ruminates in a cold bar with only the last sips of his last drink to keep his wings warm. He's tucked in the corner of a booth with Bear sprawled lazily along the bench across the table from him. Wolf, meanwhile, sits perched on a stool at the apex of their attention. Neither of whom hears Owl.
Still it has to be said that Owl likes to go out drinking with Bear and Wolf. They're his mates from all these decades past and in their packs he is honored to be counted. But when you put them together there's no coming between the two. Though different in size and strength, they both speak the language of growl and bite, of fang and claw. While Owl can only hoot an awkward - "who?" - here and there. When Owl dares speak he is roared over or dismissed outright between the bark of Bear and Wolf. But knowing that one can't soar with ruffled feathers, Owl instead wears patiently the silence of diplomats and generals.
And in that silence he learns... that the strong never say 'thank you' but instead barter between equals the unending terms of an unspoken contract betwixt them. Anything else is just the spoils of war. They also never say - 'sorry' - and for that they are despised, with complete yearning, for the brutal honesty of their souls. He smiles knowingly at private jokes. He nods dutifully at lamentations and victories alike. He records familiar tales spun with spider's grace, familiar as legend, yet with enough new details to cast their labyrinthine threads in new light.
He watches how, with a ferocious appetite for being devoured, Fox and Ladybird sit at the bar covertly watching Wolf laugh. Then Ferret saunters over to join the conversation. Bear immediately greets Ferret as if they were oldest of friends even though they meet now for the first time. Around them all the other animals can do nothing but brood purposely over their drinks. With a begrudging smile at their somber ranks, Owl steps outside for a cigarette and searches across the handful of stars above for an answer to his eternal 'Who?' Not its insidious anagram - 'how?' For he was well aware of all the decisions he made or didn't make to wind up standing here under an alley-thin slice of frigid night. But who was he? The answer never came. Longingly he looks at his friends inside through the window. Clearly they knew themselves well and if not were at least quite adept at playing the roles they cast for themselves.
But Owl was never satisfied with himself. He always thought he had another secret to learn, another mile of night to fly, a better prey to snatch in his talons before he would be as loved as Bear or respected as Wolf. Yet after years of relentlessness pursuit of this elusive epiphany, he finally reached instead a quiet solace buried within the hunt itself.
Owl asks again. Who?
From the depths of the answer's silence, tolls a laughter and poetry that only he can hear, echoing through the sleeping world at the frequency of dream.
Owl nods in imitation of the unearned wisdom his friends have cast upon him. In response the wind cuts sharp through the huddle of his wings. With a shudder he finishes the cigarette knowing he has said all he has to say without even shedding a single word.
Still it has to be said that Owl likes to go out drinking with Bear and Wolf. They're his mates from all these decades past and in their packs he is honored to be counted. But when you put them together there's no coming between the two. Though different in size and strength, they both speak the language of growl and bite, of fang and claw. While Owl can only hoot an awkward - "who?" - here and there. When Owl dares speak he is roared over or dismissed outright between the bark of Bear and Wolf. But knowing that one can't soar with ruffled feathers, Owl instead wears patiently the silence of diplomats and generals.
And in that silence he learns... that the strong never say 'thank you' but instead barter between equals the unending terms of an unspoken contract betwixt them. Anything else is just the spoils of war. They also never say - 'sorry' - and for that they are despised, with complete yearning, for the brutal honesty of their souls. He smiles knowingly at private jokes. He nods dutifully at lamentations and victories alike. He records familiar tales spun with spider's grace, familiar as legend, yet with enough new details to cast their labyrinthine threads in new light.
He watches how, with a ferocious appetite for being devoured, Fox and Ladybird sit at the bar covertly watching Wolf laugh. Then Ferret saunters over to join the conversation. Bear immediately greets Ferret as if they were oldest of friends even though they meet now for the first time. Around them all the other animals can do nothing but brood purposely over their drinks. With a begrudging smile at their somber ranks, Owl steps outside for a cigarette and searches across the handful of stars above for an answer to his eternal 'Who?' Not its insidious anagram - 'how?' For he was well aware of all the decisions he made or didn't make to wind up standing here under an alley-thin slice of frigid night. But who was he? The answer never came. Longingly he looks at his friends inside through the window. Clearly they knew themselves well and if not were at least quite adept at playing the roles they cast for themselves.
But Owl was never satisfied with himself. He always thought he had another secret to learn, another mile of night to fly, a better prey to snatch in his talons before he would be as loved as Bear or respected as Wolf. Yet after years of relentlessness pursuit of this elusive epiphany, he finally reached instead a quiet solace buried within the hunt itself.
Owl asks again. Who?
From the depths of the answer's silence, tolls a laughter and poetry that only he can hear, echoing through the sleeping world at the frequency of dream.
Owl nods in imitation of the unearned wisdom his friends have cast upon him. In response the wind cuts sharp through the huddle of his wings. With a shudder he finishes the cigarette knowing he has said all he has to say without even shedding a single word.
