It takes two to entangle |
Alpha Centaurus Echoing notes ring from the heights, thunderous hooves in the glen. Chestnut locks stream in the breeze, the centaur is hunting again. Broad shoulders slung with a quiver, armed with a longbow of yew, muscular flanks drive graceful legs that pound in relentless pursuit. A bugling horn harries his prey, the archer takes aim on the bound. An arrow flies true, straight to the heart, the stag comes crashing to ground. Waiting below, another heart beats, harks to the hunt with a thrill. Maeve hopes and fears a dream come true, with eyes cast up to the hill. One final blare, horn calling out, success announced to the sky. Now Victor turns to a gentler hunt bearing a venison prize. Maeve trembles as Victor approaches, he kisses her hand with aplomb. She leads him to table al fresco, prepared for the evening to come. Flagons of ale, trenchers of bread, the savory joint on a spit. Maeve tempts the centaur's appetite with apples and winsome wit. Soft notes play a subtle diversion, music of cricket and dove. Shared laughter disarms her defenses, bright stars twinkle down from above. Hunger and thirst may be sated, but desire will still play a part. The centaur takes aim at his quarry, love's arrow flies straight to her heart. Strong arms offer bold invitation, Maeve eagerly clambers astride and revels in galloping warmth as she takes a fantasy ride. Author's note: ▼ 40 lines |