The first of many creative stories featuring my jewelry. I hope you enjoy it!
The Love Story of Tiger and Wisp
Long ago, when animals wore the shape of humans as often as that of their own furry nature, Tiger strode on two legs through the forest. He was lonely. His former friends had long ago stopped including him in their games once they realized he followed tooth and claw more readily than rules of the game.
And so he walked alone. The sun dappled him as it shone through the branches, accentuating the faint stripes on his skin. Little rustles on either side let him know that smaller creatures were scurrying out of his path. Let them run, he thought irritably. I’m not hungry right now. His mood darkened and as if it empathized, the sky darkened above him. Soon he felt rain drops hit his head, running down his face and the back of his neck.
Enough of this two legged striding. He shifted back to four legs and prowled instead, letting the rain slide over him without penetrating his thick fur. He roared and listened with satisfaction as the sound resonated through the trees. The sky darkened further. He prowled on.
And then something changed. He felt lightness above him, something he sensed rather than saw since the clouds still gathered and the rain still fell. Laughter trilled out from the branches of a tall dark trunked tree in front of him. He settled down on his haunches in order to look up more easily. The tree’s golden leaves rustled around dark, almost black branches. The colors mimicked his own beautiful coat. A few of those gold leaves pattered down on his face, obviously aimed at him. He shook his massive head a
nd shifted back to two legs. It was easier to look up in this shape.
A face looked down at him from between the shifting leaves. A delicate pixie face, laughing at him. Now, normally Tiger hated to be laughed at, but for some reason this laughter entranced him. He felt his skin shiver and his face moved in an unfamiliar way. He smiled.
“Hey down there.” The voice sounded like rustling leaves, like wind whistling through trees, like starlight shining in the darkness. “Much better to greet people with a smile than a roar! Come on up and visit a bit.”
Tiger had never climbed a tree, but her bright face drew him. He pulled himself up, arm after arm, legs clamping tight against the trunk as he reached. She sat on a branch about halfway up the tree, bare feet dangling. Her dress was made of leaves that moved with the breeze, her hair an untidy mop of brown wisps. Tiger gingerly scooted along the branch until he sat next to her. He chose not to look down, focusing on her face instead. Hazel eyes gazed back at him. Her nose was small, her mouth grinning wide. It was the most beautiful face he had ever seen.
He worked to get the growl out of his voice. “I’ve never seen you before. Who are you?”
“My name is… Wisp. Yes, you can call me Wisp. I know you, Tiger. I’ve watched you often over the years. I’ve watched you stride on two legs and prowl on four. I’ve watched your loneliness, your sadness and your anger.”
Tiger’s heart pounded. His head felt as though it was filled with air, light as the clouds floating above. He reached out and touched a flyaway bit of her hair. “Wisp, huh? It suits you.”
She laughed, a trill like rain hitting leaves. “Now, I’ll race you back down!”
She swung herself down to a lower branch, disappearing in the leaves below. Tiger found himself clinging to the trunk again, slowly creeping down, until he felt his feet touch ground.
“I thought you got lost,” Wisp teased. Despite himself, Tiger felt the unfamiliar stretch of a grin.
“Come walk with me?” he asked without a hint of growl. “Let me show you my world.”
A shadow crossed her eyes. “I can’t leave my tree,” she said. “If I do, I will die, and my tree will die soon after. You will have to visit me here if you want my company.”
And so began their great love affair, that of Wisp the tree spirit and Tiger.
They met daily, sometimes on the ground but more often up in the tree. Tiger became a proficient climber and learned to be gentle, and smiled more often than growled. Wisp found warmth and acceptance in Tiger’s arms, and explored the forest through his stories. The years passed. Tiger grew older, while Wisp stayed much the same. Trees age slowly. One day, Tiger could no longer climb or shift from his animal shape. Wisp stayed with him at the base of her tree, stroking his fur, her tears falling on him like the rain had on the day they met. A moment came when his breath stopped. She sat for hours without moving, her head bent over his quiet body.
Moon looked down with pity at the tousled haired tree spirit sitting with Tiger’s massive greyed head in her lap. She sent a bit of her power down and said gently, “Move aside, little one.”
Wisp scooted away from the body and watched in awe and sorrow as Moon’s glow touched Tiger. The body changed, hardened, until it was a large rock that held the vibrant gold and black colors of Tiger’s youth. Wisp felt something being placed over her head and looked down to see a smooth stone, surrounded with golden raindrops, hanging against her chest. The stone mirrored her tree.
“This is his heart,” said
Moon. “See how he held you there. Now you can hold it next to yours. His rock will stay beneath your tree until it is your time to leave this world.”
And so it did.