A deep warmth spreads throughout her chest. “Oh, but this hurts too much. It’s too raw.”
“Like the newly hatched butterfly. But it will get better. The pain is deep, but the ecstasy…oh, yes…” She-cat bends and gathers the salt from the woman’s tears off the ground and holds the tiny crystals between her palms. A pale light escapes. She-cat holds up her hands and blows. Light. Everywhere. Warmth, replacing the ache inside. “Trust your heart,” she-cat purrs, “do not be afraid.”
She blinks, and when she opens her eyes, she-cat is gone. “Don’t leave me,” she cries, then sees that her skin glows. She is light. She stands quite still. Everywhere she looks, the light and the dark make sense. Every thing is, in it’s own way, reaching to the sky.
A new sound—soft, driving, primal. She hears it in the trees and the sun. She feels it in her bones and blood. She throws her head back, raises her arms and slowly twirls. It must be stars singing, she thinks.
When she is ready, she leaves the woods. And she knows she is not alone.
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