|Trust by Don LaForte|
Zina was a wild child, called that even by her grandfather in his native tongue. It was not that she misbehaved or was ill-mannered, but rather that she was not confined by traditional ways of doing things or conventional thought.
From the time she first learned to speak Zina often said things that would astound her parents and the elders, displaying a wisdom that seemed far deeper than their own. It was not unusual to find her sitting off somewhere by herself talking to something or someone that no one else could see.
"Who were you speaking to?" Asked her mother. "Grandfather Wind" she would answer as the breeze rustled leaves in the tree above her, or "Brother Deer" as a young fawn stood in the clearing not far away, looking straight in her direction. It was widely accepted that she was a sacred child and had a language of her own.
One night her father awoke in the shining moonlight to find his young daughter missing from her pallet next to theirs on the hard packed earth. Moving quietly out of the lodge so as not to wake his sleeping wife and cause her worry, he quickly scanned the surrounding area and saw Zina standing on a small knoll a short distance from the camp. A pack of coyotes were gathered in a circle around her, sitting on their haunches, making not a single sound.
As he crept closer he could hear Zina singing a hauntingly beautiful song, a chant in words that were unknown to him; and yet, like the coyotes, he was mesmerized by the sound. He sat down beneath a tree to observe her. When Zina finished she knelt down in the soft grass, tipped her head back, and raised her voice in a howl that sounded exactly like those circled around her. Then she laid down in the soft grass and curled up on her side. Silently the coyotes moved in closer, turning outward to protect her as she drifted off to sleep.
This post was written for Two Shoes Tuesday
where the prompt choices this week are creature and wild...
Come and join us there!