Tag Archives: Wolf

Which Animal Lives in your Heart – what Animal Are You?

Many of us identify with animals…
we relate to certain creature characteristics, to animals we connect with,
on both an aesthetic level and on a much deeper spiritual level.

Which Animal Lives in Your Heart - What Animal are You - The Last Krystallos

Lots of novels bond their protagonists with animals, from Philip Pullman’s Lyra and Pantalaimon, her dæmon, in His Dark Materials, to Harry Potter and his stag Patronus, and countless other books. My own Seren Stone Chronicles, which I’m currently writing contain animals that have connected with some of my characters, and it’s definitely fun to write.

Many cultures have beliefs that connect them to animals like Native American Spirit Guides and Animal Totems. There is huge significance to those who recognise their animal guides, and it’s not a frivolous choice of whatever creature you like, but a deeply sacred experience. There are plenty of online games and quizzes to find your Spirit Animal, but it doesn’t work like that, a Spirit Guide will come to you, not the other way round and no one can assign an animal to you.

So, I am not talking about Spirit Guides or Spirit Animals here, I’m taking a more light-hearted look at animals that we feel a commonality with.

Years ago I wrote a paragraph, at a time when I felt trapped and confined in my life, and I yearned for escape: ‘I once answered a question: If you could be an animal, which would you be and why?  No hesitation… I would be a horse, a wild horse. “I couldn’t stand being a trained horse, left in a field and ridden when the owner wished…” I wrote. “I would be wild and free, roaming valleys, mountains, forests… I would race, chase the wind and explore, as free as the air. Graceful and beautiful.” Then I put a spin on my answer, I wouldn’t be a horse, I’d be a unicorn. I would not only be wild and free, but I’d be mythical and mysterious. People would wonder if I really existed, I would live in dreams, a free spirit, magical and carefree… I would be a unicorn.’

When I came upon this piece recently, it made me think about animals we relate to, and what animal I would associate with myself? Then I expanded and was curious which animals I would link my family to. I wonder if they agree?

Although I don’t like to limit the choice to one, I’d still love to be a unicorn – I know much more about myself and I believe I am probably a Squirrel

Lisa Squirrel

© Lisa Shambrook (bottom right: Squirrel wallpaper)

I’m anxious, socially awkward, and a hoarder. I scamper about erratically, bright-eyed and bushy tailed, collecting treasure – acorn cups in particular – and I am very much at home in nature, within the forests, wandering through mossy glens beside trickling streams. I will observe you from a distance, and maybe, just maybe, if I feel confident enough, I’ll sidle up close to see if I can trust you enough with my presence! I am soft, nervous, bold, a paradox, and wild, just like a squirrel.

Vince Bear

© Lisa Shambrook (top left: Bear wallpaper)

I see my husband as a bear, a big, brown bear. He keeps me safe, and gives me confidence and my trust in him is implicit. He’s large, in the best way, has a huge heart and when I’m in his arms, nothing can touch me. When he’s grizzly and grouchy he needs love and appreciation, and then his fur fluffs up and he’s happy to explore and adventure with us. His inner strength shines like the sun. Vince is cuddly, protective, tender, warm and passionate, just like a bear.

Bekah Fox

© Lisa Shambrook (top left: Fox wallpaper, bottom right: Fox wallpaper)

Bekah is a wild one, she moves to her own beat, and follows her own path. She has a nature that embraces adventure and exploration, and a spirit that defies definition. She knows what she’s doing, constantly bettering herself, learning new things and developing. Bekah is an individual – conforming is not in her dictionary – and her style is her own. She is passion and cunning, spirit and character; she’ll twinkle like the stars and keep you enchanted and enthralled, just like a fox.

Dan Dog

© Lisa Shambrook

Dan is definitely a puppy dog. He’s cheerful and loving and sensitive to everything about him. He’ll play with gusto and disregard, and throw himself right in at the deep end. Dan will be your rock, your companion, the person you can rely on, and he will trust you just as you trust him. He is faithful and strong, playful and open. You’ll know exactly where you are with him. He’s adorable, happy, stubborn, funny, and caring, and will always be there for you, just like a pup.

Cait Wolf

© Lisa Shambrook (top left: Wolf wallpaper)

My lone wolf is Cait, a spirit that seeks something deeper and won’t rest ‘til she finds it. She’s a deep thinker, an empathic soul that desires the best in an imperfect world. She wonders in the simplicity of nature, and yearns for compassion in her fiery heart. Cait will champion your cause and fight for your rights while wrapping herself within her own aesthetic. She is quiet, sullen, bright, and quick-witted, sharp and devoted, and she will move beneath the moon, just like a wolf.

What animal do you relate to most and what do you think others’ would perceive you as?

If you could be any animal, which would you choose?    

And…I might be a unicorn, or a squirrel, but I am also a dragon, and a cat…
and much, much more! What about you?

 

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Blues Buster: Dark Road

© Lisa Shambrook

© Lisa Shambrook

Dark Road

Cold fingers clutch at my heart, squeezing and making me breathless. My legs tremble and I struggle to remain motionless. My breath pools in my throat, as I clench my jaw scarcely letting a stray whisper escape. I daren’t even let the leaves surrounding me quiver as the moon shimmers them with silver dust. I drop to the frigid ground as softly as I can and ignore the brambles biting my belly.

The moon disappears, shrouded behind indigo and I twitch, listening, feeling…

His feet crunch, on crispy frosted leaves, and twigs break beneath his step, and I hold my breath. Accustomed to the dark, I stare through the undergrowth. He stands, alert and brazen, and I stifle myself as a flood of moonlight touches him from behind the parting clouds.

“You’re not welcome!” he calls, his voice strained and tight, and his stance shifts as he lifts his gun.

Blood pounds and I can barely contain myself. My head swims, and the metaphorical knife he thrust through my soul years ago pierces deep.

I want to leap from the undergrowth, rush from the hedge, but instead I shiver from the passion that rises, from the hot blood that pumps through my veins. I fight the desperation that mounts.

“GO! Go now!” His voice breaks, and my heart splinters. “Please go…” he whispers, and my nerve begins to fail.

I sit back, hidden beneath the dense fretwork of branches and foliage. Then the screech of an opening window shatters the night’s silence and a voice demolishes my resolve.

“Dad, Dad, come back inside.”

He crumbles, and I watch as his defences drop. Fire ignites in my belly and I crouch, leaning forward. A snarl builds from the cauldron of coals within. He glances up at the window and the shaft of light cast down from his daughter’s bedroom behind her gaze. “Dad, it’s not safe out there, come back inside!”

Her voice ruins me.

I stare up at the girl, and douse the fire. Her raven black hair twists in the breeze and vapour, like dragon’s smoke, clouds her breath. I lower my ebony hackles. Her father is lost amid the desire to protect and the urge to listen to his child. I stare intently at the girl, and my eyes are wet. Her hair is caught by the wind as she leans out of the window. White stripes, old scars glow iridescent in the silvered rays against her neck and I bite back the ugly emotion that surges through me.

I got what I came for and withdraw, recoil, and let the frosty fingers of winter grab my heart again. The scars adorning her neck, though old and pale, serve well as a reminder. Sometimes a glimpse is all you need, sometimes love is more than being there, and sometimes you choose to walk a lonely path.

I shake the chill from my shaggy fur and pad softly away, leaving my two loves behind like my paw print trail.

I howl as the cursed moon climbs high in the open sky, then as it vanishes behind a curtain of gloom the darkness covers me and I melt into the night and the hope of the coming dawn.

(538 Words)

Another tale for Jeff’s Blues Buster. The prompt song is ‘Dark Road’ by Sarah Jarosz…take a listen and read the other tales over at The Tsuruoka Files.

Blues Buster: The Hungry Wolf

My Blues Buster from the prompt ‘The Hungry Wolf’ by X over at The Tsuruoka Files.

24. Blues Buster The Hungry Wolf

Photo taken from my old calendar!

The Hungry Wolf

The orange glow of streetlamps cast an amber aura over my body as I sprinted through the streets, but I hurried through the nightlife so lightly that barely anyone noticed me. I slipped unseen, like a ghost, amongst the Friday-night revellers, moving in time to the heartbeats that echoed about me. The crowds thinned as I moved west and chatter grew quieter as the hour grew later, but I continued running, my belly hungry.

The aroma of meat, of fast food and the sour stench of sweat, and the strong odour of urine, filtered through my senses as I dodged a group of women on unwieldy heels that couldn’t walk in a straight line. I snorted and ducked low as they clattered past. The last woman, drenched in chemical pheromones, turned back catching my eye. She gazed at me and her pupils widened as longing wafted over the midnight chill. I jogged away, moving swiftly and surely, ignoring her need.

I hurried on, my heart hammering and my eyes searching.

Darkness spread as neon lights faded, and the fragrance of sweet honeysuckle filled the air. I inhaled, my senses heightened, and my craving deepened. I left the streets, turning down an alleyway filled with the perfume of white flowers and night’s jasmine. My belly rumbled and a growl rose within my throat, grumbling out into the dusk.

I loped down the lane, my paws padding on the pavement, my nose close to the ground and innate desire rising in my stomach.

Azaleas, purple and magenta, fluttered, and wisteria climbed across the walls, and rails, and up over the door at the top of the steps. Light flooded the courtyard from an open window above and soft music wafted across the piazza. I paused at the foot of the steps, panting, my tongue lolling between my teeth, and my fur ruffling in the late breeze. I stared up at the door and the shadow that danced across the lunette. The moon reflected in the crescent window and I resisted the urge to howl, but my blood boiled beneath my heavy coat.

The door clicked open and there she was long and lean, and standing against the doorframe, one leg crossed over the other and her breast heaving as she gazed down the steps. Her hand hovered at her hip and her eyes glistened in the moonlight, and I rocked on my haunches. She smiled, showing white teeth and scarlet lips and my heart quickened. Her finger curled and she beckoned me.

I howled, my call echoing far and wide, and she stroked her décolletage, and there was no holding me back.

As the door closed behind me and the full moon bathed the house, she buried her face in my fur and my soul exploded. My body shivered and my fur rippled, and moments later I stood before my love, as naked and furless as the day I’d entered the world.

I caught up my wife in my arms and carried her upstairs determined to make the most of our night before daybreak tore us apart…

(518 Words)

12 Days of Christmas: Moon

It’s the final day of 12 Days of Christmas and this is my final offering, with a nod to the lovely @Rowanwolf66…and thanks for hosting this fun and inspirational Blog Hop.

Photograph by Lisa Shambrook (from my calendar!)
Moon
Some thought she was a witch, others thought she was gypsy, she didn’t care what anybody thought, as long as people stayed away.
The cabin was out in the back of the woods, and she had few visitors, if any, which was just how she liked it. 
People could gossip and talk as much as they liked, providing they kept themselves out of her business, and they did, on both counts. 
She kept herself to herself, coming into town just twice a week to collect supplies and trade. She grew vegetables that surpassed any grown in the region, and flowers, and made tinctures, tonics and sweet wine.  
The old women watched her with wrinkled wisdom, the middle-aged women with envy and the young with curiosity. The old men, middle-aged and young men…just watched.  
 A young girl living alone was a danger, they’d say…and they should have been right.  
Such was her beauty that some men made it through the forest in the deep of night, just for a sight of the maiden or for other unsavoury reasons, but rarely did any make it back without scratches and wounds and tales of a voracious hound, and some didn’t make it back at all.
She danced as dawn crept over the horizon, sang as she worked, and wandered through the woods in search of plants. As night fell and the moon rose high in the indigo sky she returned home, and nothing worried her. 
They townsfolk were right she should have been vulnerable, but for the wolf that lay across her doorstep every night. 
And every full moon she left her door wide open and the wolf crept up the stairs and into her bedroom, and under the silver rays her husband was hers, just for the night… 
(296 Words)
Day Twelve: December – Moon
The stories have been amazing…check them all out!