The Storm's Thunder (#Wattys2016)

Chapter VIII

August 14th, 2018

A sonnet.

Wings of the White Bird
By Earth Blaze

I always used to wish that I could fly,
No longer cursed to remain on the ground,
Free to roam around in the big blue sky
The one place where humans cannot be found
I would spread my feathered wings, big and light
Free to be me, to be more than human
They are the wings of a bird, wings of white
Swoop like an eagle, my shadow loomin'
Dark in the sky over those trapped below.
Oh! The joy of freedom, of seeing all
Oh, if only they could feel this, could know
But I'm only another one of them
I'm a person just like anyone else
But among these people, I'm not myself.
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Storm had run ahead of Earth, ignoring her warnings. She knew that Earth hadn't been in the forest as long as she had, and Storm had been this way before. She stormed through the forest, following Rouge's caws until, for the first time for months, her foot caught on a root and she fell straight down. She sat up, frustrated by her sudden clumsiness, and pulled her foot from under the traitorous root. Then she stopped and listened, but the forest was silent and foreboding. No birds called, no moon shone through the branches, no leaves fluttered to their private song. She was really and truly lost. The trees crowded in all around, blocking her view of the sky. Far away, an owl screeched. She had never been this far, at least in this direction, from the Roaring Cave.
Confused and a bit scared, Storm looked around, hugging her knees to her chest, then felt a weight on her foot.
There was a silver wolf pup with a thick black stripe down its back, sitting on her foot. It yipped at her and kept poking her violin case with its nose. Tentatively, Storm lifted her other hand and ran her fingers down its back. It yipped and ran in circles, then looked back at the case, which had popped open when she fell. It seemed to be looking expectantly at her instrument.
Then she heard a long note, the sound of a single stroke of the bow on violin strings. As she listened, her eyes grew wider and the song grew more complicated. It was... It was...!
Nearly overflowing with joy, she took out her violin and began to play as she had practiced. Her strings sang along with the other violin, capturing the raging might of the ocean under a bright full moon. The spray of salt water and the rumble of thunder.
The notes weren't the same since she had always played by memory, but together with the true notes it sounded amazing. One violin swept the waves high and the other pulled the water low. The water danced, the air danced and she danced too. The pup's eyes lit up and it raced toward the sound of the other violin, occasionally glancing back towards Storm to make sure she was following.
And of course she was, singing the words she had made up for the song at the top of her lungs and playing as she ran after the striped wolf, not caring if the words didn't rhyme, not caring if she stepped on a root, not caring if she messed up some notes, not caring as tears of joy streamed down her face. All she knew was the music that moved her, the sweep of her bow and the roar of waves forever reaching for the moon. She was a leaf, swaying to her own special tune. She was a little ship on the raging ocean melody. She didn't play the song, the song played her. She ran like she had grown wings, black as the raven's. Her feet flew over the uneven ground without a stumble. She lost herself in the sound of the violin and ran toward the familiar sound of the shining silver violin.