Through the grass they travel,
paws padding upon the moist ground
and winds slapping against gentle wind,
as she guides her home.
Drinking from the river,
cold water refreshing a parched throat,
as the owl drops a large pheasant onto the ground,
so they may feast,
Strength growing in the little one,
as she treads along the worn path.
Underneath the glowing crescent,
she walks through the forest
growing larger with every step,
until she emerges, fully grown.
The sun breaks from the horizon
as she enters the cliffside manor by the sea
to lounge lazily on a familiar chair,
once worn, now neatly threaded,
to rest her head gently
and awake in the afternoon
to play amongst the others
and feast upon freshly caught salmon.
Her mother, in her dark cloak,
reaches out a hand and ruffles her fur,
moving her onto her lap,
as she sips her tea from the astrological cup,
welcoming her daughter home.