“And oh what a curious sight we must be,” he mused. This tiny thing, perched on his head, leading the way with her breath. “But they don’t know you like I do,” he continued, “and all the strength you carry.” She smiled a slow nod, head high, innocence in tow. He could feel her deep passion and life radiate from within her. All that warmth. All that softness. And yet somehow, all the beasts – both wonderful and terrible – seem to take great pleasure in bowing before her. They all yield to her quiet strength and simple desire, and they all fall in reverence to her peaceful demeanor. For the power in her breath is calmness embodied. It is flexible defiance and brave tranquility. And she has the most courageous of hearts. He looked up at her small toes, dangling down into the corners of his vision, and tilted his head back to lick them. She giggled. And leaned down and wrapped her small arms around his neck and gently squeezed. “It’s true,” she whispered. Her love stopping him in his tracks, “What a curious sight we must be.”
She thinks about his wild heart. His instinct. His power. And she thanks him for his company. And onwards they go, peacefully, into the night.