Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion by Cheryl Pennington copyright words and photography Under the Blood Moon The Living Scrolls The new moon was blood-red. Eagna gazed at it from her window in amazement. Whenever the crimson wonder rose on Domhan, … Continue reading Under the Blood Moon
Do you have a “worst photo ever”? Continue reading Exposed/Owning Yourself
Invisible Watching the parade and longing to ride, but stand in the shadows, needing to hide. Wings are not clipped, so why not soar? Afraid to enter an opening door. Visibility to some the ultimate goal, to another the threat of losing their soul. Why seems it a sin to want only to live, to answer when called and with everything give? No production! No success! No fame! No coin! Just… quiet happiness. Making beautiful things for their own sake, not to barter or sell but any may take. Invisible I am in a crowded place, for they look right … Continue reading Cloak of Invisibility
Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion by Cheryl Pennington copyrighted written and artistic materials Welcome back! I am publishing more of my novel here in the hope that someone is enjoying it and it may bring a bit of entertainment or comfort to anyone who has ever felt alone. You are never alone. All too often those in the flesh can leave us feeling more empty than the comfort that comes from knowing there is a Source, a Power beyond our comprehension, which loves us without condition. The love of Spirit is timeless, tireless and ceaseless. If you are here for … Continue reading Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion-for Love of As’me
Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion
by Cheryl Pennington
all rights reserved for content, written and artisitic
In the land of Dohman, the Daughter of Eternity grows lonely and asks for a companion. In response to her longing, those in the realm agree to create a companion for her. When the daughter of the sister world pleads the same cause to her own God, his reaction is a mixture of jealousy and design. How quickly the desire to please can be entangled with one’s own desires. The betrayal of trust finds its way into consciousness even as love extends itself in Spirit. If you are reading for the first time, you can find the previous chapters in the archives. Look for the black and white bird. This is the sixth installment. If you like what you read, please let me know. I would love to hear any feedback from you, so please do leave a note in the comments if you would like. Thanks for stopping by my blog and be sure to check out the Costa Rica and Louisiana pages as well. This life we are walking through is so very huge, full of emotion, questions and and blind alleys. My hope is to offer comfort in the way of understanding all that we are and what we hoped to be when it all began.
If you like what you read and want to “catch up” just type in Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion in the Search bar and the other installments of the book are available there. Thank you for sharing this journey with me. 🙂
Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion
The Story Continues..
XV Mac Returns
“Too long have you been in isolation, Mac. Have you healed your energy and forgotten your fear?” Mor implored Its son to return to the Consciousness of Eternity and begin recreating along with those that loved him.
Mac had indeed known healing within the vastness of Eternal Light, and He would miss the quiet Peace he had grown accustomed to there. But he also missed his Twin and knew she had forgiven him so long ago. Mor was not taking no for an answer. “Your help is needed in a new Creation now. You must know there have been changes in your absence.”
Mac had, of course, seen what occurred on the worlds from his great distance but had only observed in silence and detachment. He was very intrigued by the thought of something new-a fresh beginning; and he had no desire to visit his own world, so disappointed was he in what had become of his great work and the pitiful God that lived upon it. Yet so immense was his Love for this original thought that neither could he destroy it. In a small, dark recess of his being, he secretly hoped it would have destroyed itself.
Mor felt a new sensation.
Inion, thrilled to rejoin her Twin, embraced him in spirit-comforting, loving and accepting him once more. This brought Mor waves of pleasure, for Love was the very reason for Its Being and what It always wanted for all of its Creations. If only they could experience the other intruding sensations as It did- from a distance and with Objectivity. It knew all would always return to Love. Perhaps they would in time; but for now there was much Light in Eternity, and soon there would be the chance to share that Light on Dohman in the form of a new human. Mac was more than pleased to be asked for assistance, to be needed in this process; and it was as a balm to his old wounds of jealousy and envy.
The body of this human would be drawn from the energy of Dohman, as had it’s Keeper; but its Essence would come from Mac’s masculine energy as a way to balance that of the feminine in M’na. In this way the desire was to create a harmony upon Inion’s world as had once been known in Eternity. It was in this Spirit of Unity that Mor, Inion, Mac, and Bandia put their idea into motion.
Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion
by Cheryl Pennington
2013 copyright all written and artistic composition and blog content
I wanted to post the next chapters of my novel for those who may have already begun the book. If you are reading for the first time and would like to read the previous 3 installments, they will be listed in the archives with the most recent showing in recent posts. Just look for the black and white bird. My desire is to share my story with anyone who is interested. After attempting to publish it the “traditional” way and beginning the entangled process of selling myself and my work, I decided to at least begin to publish it here, free of charge, to anyone who cares to invest the time and thought into reading it. I would appreciate any feedback or questions you may have. If nothing else, I hope to provoke thought, questions and a desire to share ideas. This is a work of fiction that is based on an idea. This idea was the result of many years of struggling with my traditional religious history and the death of my mother. In my quest to understand the world of sorrows and the offer of peace from Eternity, I have received my own sense of comfort from what I feel to be the source of all Comfort. It matters not what name you give it, only that you can recognize and accept its gift of Unconditional Love. The characters in my novel represent a tale of the first humans to walk upon a world and follows them as they discover the duality of their own nature and deal with the sense of loneliness they feel upon their perceived separation from Spirit. If you stick with me through this tale, you will learn of their talents, their hopes, their conviction, their desire and temptation and their ultimate understanding of their place in this illusion we call Life.
I hope you will rejoin me here as the god and goddess of the new worlds try to ease their own loneliness with the creation of new life there.
Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion
the story continues….
Inion was in other parts of Eternity, creating other Worlds-all magnificent, although not as beloved as her Dohman. Her own inner light felt diminished since the perceived attack from her twin’s creation and her connection with Bandia had grown dim as a result. She knew the goddess would care for her world in her mother’s absence. Inion allowed the cord of communication between them to be cut as she hid within the shadow of her great Sorrow; but now she would have to be made aware of the changes on Dohman.
Mor approached Its daughter with wisdom and love. “Have you lately communed with your daughter, my Inion? She has created something beautiful and unique on your Dohman, but has done so without your guidance. You must go to her at once and discover why she has moved in such a way. You must become present once more in the life of your Creations or there will be no balance.”
Mor spoke these words from the seat of Unconditional Love, understanding Its daughter’s world would be hungry for the same love which existed within her, a love it needed to survive. What the wounded Feminine soul heard, however, was the thought drawn from the well of emptiness inside, that voice of her newly formed perception which spoke more loudly than that of her sense of Truth. And it cried out, “Failure! You must repent, for you have disappointed your Father yet again. He will never Love you as He once did.” Quickly, she sought out the goddess Bandia.
Inion gazed upon her Dohman, seeing immediately what had taken place. Though her first thought was one of great joy at the sight of another lovely being on the world of Light, her inner emptiness demanded equal time. “She has caused Great Spirit to be angry with you,” it cajoled. “She must think she is greater than you, her own Mother.”
It was from that place of her own dark fear that she confronted the goddess, “My Daughter, what is this? What have you done? You were told never to create from within your own Essence and now you have done this without even communing with Great Spirit-or consulting your mother!”
Now another sensation arrived within her newly forming consciousness. It sprang from the core of her being and pushed the thoughts out before she could reconsider or stop them. Fear reigned supreme as in sudden anger she cried, “You have disobeyed me and brought shame in our Father’s eyes!”
(This, of course, was not true; for Mor had only Unconditional Love for all of Its creations. It was saddened by her misunderstanding)
Bandia was not completely surprised by her Mother’s disappointment, for she understood her error; but she was hurt and confused by her anger. This was not something they had shared before. It awakened her own newly arriving Ego, an Ego that would become as an empty chalice for Creation, always wanting new sensations to fill it, but never-oh never-being satisfied.
She felt a myriad of new emotion, from shame at knowing she had done as she was expressly forbidden to her own disappointment that her Mother had not even looked upon her lovely creation before condemning it as such a grave error. Bitterness became a guest in the house of her ego at that moment. And such company is never sweet.
Of course, Inion’s intent was never to create these wounds in her daughter’s soul, her love for Bandia being as great as Mor’s love for Its own Children. When she sensed the shift in her Goddess’s soul, she immediately withdrew into herself. She remembered her own transgression against her Father’s command and returned to the place of Light within. When she spoke to Bandia once more, it was with the Unconditional Love of Eternity. “My daughter, it truly is with much disappointment that I discover this deception from you; but let me see now what you have Created so that we can work together once more.”
Forgiven and full of joy, Bandia quickly moved to Dohman and found M’na swimming in the ocean with its graceful creatures. Those blue-green depths were quickly becoming her favorite place to be. The warm, fluid waters enveloped her and felt as a comforting memory long gone-that of floating in pure energy.
“M’na,” said the Goddess excitedly, “Inion would like to commune with you now.” Together they all joined, with Bandia as communicator and M’na in a deep meditation. While in this state she was able to see, hear and know her Mother Inion, the Creator of Dohman. It was a precious time for M’na and would herald the beginning of a wonderful trinity among them, the time that brought her a genuine sense of being whole.
Inion could not deny the glorious harmony that M’na brought to her world, the love felt by all living things in her presence, and how balanced everything seemed since last she looked upon it. Bandia had truly done a wonderful job in her creation. This new sensation, this Gratitude, overshadowed Inion’s previous anger; and they were at peace with one another once more. As the Light shone brightly within all of them, the empty space retreated. Now Inion grew to better understand Her own Father’s great Love for Her and for her Twin. Perhaps Mac, too, was experiencing the same thing within his realm and on his own World. She hoped so with all of her being..
Something very different was happening in Mac’s shadowy corner of Eternity. The tendril which had begun its climb upward within his own Essence had been inherited by his Son, this God of Dohman Eile. In him it was flourishing, welcomed by its host as Vibrancy, Vitality and more than anything else, Power.
“I grow weary of having only you to commune with!”, thundered Mac en Mor to his Creator. Mac had grown quite weary of his son. So much darkness in this Creation was draining to his own Essence. So he began to stay away from the place which started out to be his masterpiece, his trophy to win his Mother’s great Love and acceptance (that which he already possessed without homage or offering). He had begun creating other worlds but never again did he create from within his own Essence.
Mac had forbidden the god of his dark world to create from within himself at the express instruction of Mor. He did not want to anger his Mother again. (His perception remained fixed on the notion that anger was possible within the realm of Unconditional Love) In spite of the warning from his father, the God of Dohman Eile had his own desires. Cunning was a new branch on the prickly vine that climbed from the darkness now, and Mac en Mor was eager to test its strength. He was relentless in the pursuit of his goal and took a new approach.
“Did you know that your sister has been allowed to extend her own gifts to that of her Goddess daughter?” he goaded Mac. “What of your Mother in this? Why has She allowed Inion to share this power and not Her very own Son?”
Pride was great in this Creation, dark was the core of his Essence, and Ego was predominant in his nature. The Light was there, but miniscule because of Mac’s error in making it the last and almost forgotten part of his Son. In its diminished capacity Mac an Mor felt he could contain it, even use it if need be; but he vowed he would not allow it to rule him as it did His Creator and the others in Eternity. He would not share their emptiness and pain or seek the nectar of approval that never filled an empty cup. There was no power in it. He lusted for power. For control. The very thought of it filled him with excitement.
(Mor knew the thought of Mac en Mor but had great hope that his Son would contain this dark Creation. There were new and exciting sensations that arrived with him; but they threatened the Light, the very thing which defined Existence. This poor ignorant God could not, would not allow himself to understand this. Mor would watch and wait…)
Mac did not try to hide his confusion. “What do you mean? Inion did not speak of this to me.” In truth, Mac did not recall when he was last with his twin. Mac an Mor knew this and seized the opportunity to drive a wedge deeper between them, though cunning was his approach.
“Perhaps it is because she did not want you to feel..overlooked,” he consoled. “If you knew Mor had allowed your sister to share the gift of creation with the Goddess of her world, then surely you would have felt… well….slighted.”
What the dark god intended to nurture within his Father, of course, were the dark vines of Jealously that were newly sprouted within Mac’s Essence, fighting for control of his young consciousness. The Light within him cried out in protest as it urged him to go to his Twin and to Great Spirit, to ask questions before allowing this abomination-his own creation-to convince him of true deception.
Mac was confused by the duality of light and dark within his own Soul and, afraid that he might sacrifice one for the other, he fled his World in utter despair, calling out to the dark god as he left, “Go on! Create to your soul’s content. What care I for this dark world I have Created? It was condemned by my own Mother and now it is being transformed into Gan (without) by my very own Son. It matters not what I say or do any longer!”
These new sensations sprang into being as Helplessness and Desperation. Mac wanted no more to do with anything he had created on Dohman Eile and retreated to the farthest reaches of Eternity so that he could try to repair what was darkened within himself. He was still turning from the Source, still not comprehending that all he needed lay within as he forgot that His Creator was never more than a thought away from him, feeling all he felt and only loving him.
Mor would not deny Mac His experience and was thankful for Its Son’s desire to be rid of his darkness. Still, It was saddened that Mac did not make more of an attempt to repair the darkness within his own Creations, abandoning his Dohman Eile and leaving it in the control of this God, this twisted portion of Himself that now hoped to create more of the same-and with no supervision. These were not good sensations. These caused great rifts in the Light of Eternity. Great Spirit could always intervene if need be. For now It would watch. Experience was still good, but destruction was not. And so it remained….
Originally posted on Project Deeds:
Welcome back Deed Doer’s. I hope you and the deed recipient(s) found great value and happiness upon the execution of last weeks deed. If you did not get the opportunity to put last weeks deed into action, I highly recommend that you make time to act on the Double It Up deed this week. I guarantee the deliberate execution of this deed will shine happiness into the lives of all of those involved. I want to get right down to business this week. I know time is precious and the longer we sit here reading… Continue reading Double It Up
Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion The content, both written and artistic, within this blog remain the sole property of Cheryl K. Pennington. While the story belongs to everyone, the words expressed within this work remain my own. Thank you. Here I am once again, to share a bit more of my novel. It has become a quest for me to make it visible, even if only in my blog. The process of discovering my own understanding of our dual nature was so profound and ultimately comforting that I hope it will strike a cord of remembrance for others who struggle … Continue reading Book Continued/Forever Never/The Dawn of Illusion
Hi and Welcome to my blog!
If this is your first visit I am glad you stopped by; and welcome back if you are a frequent visitor. In my quest to publish my first novel-my inspiration, my idea-I have encountered some crooked turns in the road as well as a few blocks. I continue to persevere in my search for the direction I need to take concerning sharing my work and hoping it will spark the imagination and thought of those who read it. Meanwhile, I wanted to begin to publish it on my own, without a lot of fanfare or bloodletting. I simply want to share my thought, open my heart and give others a glimpse of what I have found in my search for my spiritual identity.
My journey began long before I can remember, but my awakening in this life of searching began with the death of my dear Mother. No one else afforded me the comfort of acceptance, the assurance of devoted love and the constant support that she did. There is no love like that of a mother. There are other great loves, but each is unique unto itself. When she died, a part of me went with her, as did my sense of identity. Always looking to her face for approval, turning to her for advice and support, and always hoping she would return to perfect health and be the mother I remembered her as, it was a devastating blow. Alas, it was to be. As I found myself drowning in a sea of despair, slowly my life began to crumble away. It would seem a disaster to the observer; but for me, it was the moment for my authentic self to emerge. The bitter coldness of knowing one is solely responsible for their own feelings, actions and reactions is shocking on many levels.
Once I learned to accept my new position in the world I knew, I realized how debilitating it is to be dependent on others for our sense of self worth. I began to fell empowered over my own life. This was not a quick process by any means; and to say I no longer struggle would be a blatant lie. I do understand, however, that my experience has brought me to a place of greater compassion for my fellow dream walkers. If one never knows pain, sorrow, illness and loss, it is difficult to understand how these things can affect another. How can one recognize true bliss if they have never seen despair? Bit by bit, angel by angel, book by book and rung by rung I began to ascend the ladder to wholeness. I am proud to say I have come a long way on this path of self discovery. And I am happy to say that my journey continues onward and upward. The most glorious part for me is knowing that I am not traveling alone. For you are here with me. And Spirit is beside us, even when we refuse to acknowledge Its presence.
Why are we here? Where is Eternity? What was THE plan? How do we win the struggle between Good and Evil? These are all legitimate questions and ones that have plagued humankind ever since its mind forgot the truths it came into existence understanding and began the perceived journey “home”. What I have discovered for myself may seem astounding to some, familiar to others and perhaps crazy to many. I only know I have found comfort in realizing the duality of our nature, the connectedness of the All That Is, and the inevitable end to the illusion we like to call “life”. Still there remain so many unanswered questions; but I submit to you that this quest, this journey, the unanswered questions are indeed our reason for continuing life as we know it.
Was there even a “plan”? What if it were more like an experiment, a dream, a hope-born of a simple desire? What if all that truly exists is Love-a love that wants only to perpetuate its existence? This legacy continues on in the human race as we bear children whom we love unconditionally while we bask in the glow of those beautiful beings who become our offspring and the next generation of Creators.
What if Eternity is not somewhere “up” or “out” there? Perhaps it exists around and within us, but we have lost our memory of how to connect. What was once clear and crisp has now dulled to a faint whisper that too often is drowned out by the voices of fear and deception that plague our fractured souls. It was only a small crack to begin with-but when fed by conscious thought it became a chasm that threatened to envelope the reason and hope of its host.
Good and Evil? What if this ancient struggle is not one that takes place in our outer world? What if there are no “good” or “bad” beings? I have come to accept the duality of my own nature, that within my soul lie the seeds of darkness that are eager to cloud my perceptions, to feed my fear of being without love, and to use that hunger to control my actions and reactions.
We spend so much of our lives running from our darkness, denying its existence and begging to be rescued by the Light. What if all we had to do was to use our own light to illuminate the darkness within our souls, accept that we are not perfect within our human bodies and know that in the eyes of The Creator we are perfect-now and always? And always we are perfectly loved.
Will this knowledge repair humanity’s collectively diseased soul? Likely not. But would not the Unconditional Love of the Universe rejoice in the healing of even one soul? One more light in the darkness?
My work is not intended to rebut, undermine or replace any religious doctrine. It is merely my own perception of Creation as I weave my way along this path of illusion called life.
This chapter is the beginning of the book, but not the beginning of the story. It is one that bears retelling from the perspective of its characters. If you find it interesting and would like me to share more, please leave a thought, a reply or a word. I will appreciate your input. I am still in search of the “right” place to publish, but for now I am content to share it here.
“Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Herein lies the peace of God.”
From A Course In Miracles.
FOREVER NEVER/The Dawn of Illusion
an original novel By
The names of characters and places in this story are primarily derived from Irish and Spanish influences. This is a work of fiction, brought to life to present an idea-an idea intended to provoke imagination and bring comfort in an often uncomfortable world.
The Traveler/The Question
As the sun crept closer to the edge of the horizon and a new dawn approached, the world of Dohman blinked the night shadows from its heavy eyelids. A gentle wind moved across the grassy hillside; and like airy fingers it stirred the sea of green, beckoning all of life to join the illusion once more.
Although light was still a shadowy thought away, the dark magic was already casting its spell over the waking life there, responding to the murmurs of that voice which had cast the oblivion over them. Whispering, it seemed to call from within the morning mists; and in response to the powerful command from the ether, both of them stirred.
It was always the same. As she found consciousness, the first breath of morning crossed her face, cool and fresh, and she began to grope for thought. Lifting her face to the hint of sunrise, she blinked. In that twinkling, she remembered everything. She perceived it all, feeling a flood of relief in the knowing; and in that blinding moment of perception, it was all so vivid, yet so mercurial. She let out a small gasp of comprehension as anguish found her heart and hope permeated her being; and then the veil of darkness descended, yet again obliterating her beautiful glimpse of truth. She lowered her head and sighed as she opened her eyes to this new dawning of The Forgotten, the lucid moment not even to become a memory there in the dark recesses of her mind.
At this precise moment, the other was stirred by morning’s approach; and the callous hand of sorcery repeated its performance. The smell of lavender on the early breezes nudged his senses awake, urging him to embrace her presence. It filled his soul with peace, comfort and the kind of love only she could express. As the earliest slivers of light struck the moldy ground beneath him, the sleepy Traveler called forth the precious vision within his mind, weaving his own form of magic. How faintly the outline seemed this morning, even though he had traced it there with every rising sun since she disappeared from his world.
Loveliness defined her as she moved through the recesses of his memory, a shadowy reminder of the innocence he once was, the trust he once had, and the hope that drove him onward. Yes…through the mists he could see long, dark curls of hair that seemed to take on a life of their own as she moved. Her hand was delicate and soft as she touched his cheek, gazing into his eyes with those dark and endless tunnels of adoration.
His love conjured images of fragrant blossoms and the sounds of laughter. Their laughter. But now there was only he. And what was left of the perfect place he had known as home. Their most beloved Dohman. There floated within his mind a fading image of a garden, hung low with vines and lush green foliage, where he had once known contentment. Through this memory strolled the perfect form of femininity, with him trailing behind and memorizing every detail of her being-the color of her tunic, the turn of her head. She waved! His eyes moved to the object of her gesture; and this was where his deepest pain began. He could only bear this part of the conjuring for an instant before closing the door on the scene. The pain cut like a dagger into his soul, threatening to tear him apart; but then her presence found him once more, hanging like damp air around his drowsy senses, calming him, urging him to keep hope alive.
“Hurry!” she whispered. “I wait..” She must be near! How could she not be when he could feel her very thoughts?
He formed her face within his mind again; but it seemed shrouded in fog. She looked so radiant as her lips parted to speak, to share a thought and a word of comfort. He could see her mouth form his name and waited to hear the music flow from within, his child’s heart beating wildly. Then, to his horror, the fog turned dark and enveloped her face completely, smothering the sound that would have strengthened his heart. In silence, it cried. Then, through the dark veil came the light, the harsh light that signaled a new morning. It was always the same. He marveled that he had never become accustomed to it or been able to deflect it, although he willed it so again and again.
The Traveler lifted himself onto one elbow, gazing over to where his beloved horse was now stirring in the morning light and thought, “What dreams do such creatures have?” As he shielded his eyes from the glare of dawn he wondered how long it would be before the sun simply forgot to rise over their world, leaving them in darkness forever.
A sudden snorting sound brought an end to his musing as, momentarily startled, he remembered his traveling companion. A few feet away lay the bulky form of the grumbling Cave Dweller who had now become his friend in these recent days of searching. Disturbed by his own snoring, the stout one tossed on the bedroll where he lay and thrust his chubby fists into the air, swatting at the newly awakened gnats that combed his bristly chin for abandoned crumbs.
The Traveler stifled a chuckle and reached for a nearby stone which he lightly tossed at his friend. It hit the restless male squarely on the chest before thudding to the ground where it rolled into a thicket of dry brush. The small giant jumped and yelped as he began swinging wildly at an unknown attacker, frightening away the gnats in a frenzied flurry. Now the Traveler was laughing heartily, finding relief from his sorrow, even if it had been at the expense of his riding companion.
“What, in the name of Mor, is so funny?” growled the Cave Dweller, rubbing his eyes and scratching at infinitesimal bites. His chubby hands were stained and his nails blackened from so long digging in the recesses of the caves. “Was that your idea of a ‘Good morning’? Rude…this is not how I am normally awakened. Now, my beloved Oth..”
The Traveler laughed harder now as he interrupted. “Ahhh…so it’s tenderness you prefer. I’m sorry my fat friend, but I have no desire to stir you with a morning kiss, such as your chosen one might. I can barely stand to sleep on the same hillside with you since you see fit to bathe only with the rise of a full moon.”
A loud grunt of indignation escaped the throat of the stout one, but he had no sharp retort for his tall friend while still in such a clouded state.
The Traveler had been exaggerating about the bathing but couldn’t resist the urge to goad his touchy friend. In truth, he was hoping to ease a bit of the other one’s loneliness with his teasing. It had been for the sake of his own best friend back in the land of the caves that this one had agreed to be a part of the search. The two Cave Dwellers had been inseparable from the beginning; and the one who remained back in their homeland-well-it was pitiable what had become of his mind since the Devastation. His beloved companion had disappeared over a bleak horizon, leaving her grieving partner with a new infant to care for, armed only with a broken heart and a handful of charred rock.
The Cave Dweller didn’t find the Traveler’s morning humor entertaining and shot the him a glance of warning, advising his friend that his own foul mood would remain until he had been properly fed.
‘Fine, then’, thought the Traveler as he gathered his tools, leaving the other to do his morning business. There were certainly fish to be caught; so he grabbed his line and clicked his tongue at the white mare now standing patiently near the edge of the trees, waiting to be led down to the river. She approached her master gently, nudging his hand with her warm, wet nose, and gladly accepted the piece of fruit he held out to her.
Precious treasure, he thought, as he surrendered the sweet treat to his loyal four-legged friend. If his traveling companion had seen this, he would have lost his head-and his temper. Giving food to a beast when he was ‘starving’! The Traveler rolled his eyes to think of it. It was of no consequence anyway, for he fully intended to bring back a nice string of fish to hang over the fire. This would at least ease the hunger pains of his friend. Sadly, there was nothing he could do for the male’s aching soul. Not until they found her, he told himself. If only…