The winter storm blows across the Mesa, rattling the sage. There is no end to her night, no beginning to her day. Time just ushers her along. Silent, alone. She's able to see best at night. The dark elicits from her a primordial longing to sniff for bones, reconnect with her Wild Woman, to seek La Luna, the Wolf Woman. She rests deep in the soul during the day, and comes out to play at night, when the coyotes ride the wind like ravens.
She longs for her tribe. Long since gone, she sniffs their bones. Reconnecting with the essence of the marrow, she can feel the past rising up to be released freely. It's only through this sniffing in the night that La Luna reaches a place where the cycle stops and she's born again. She sees anew. The forest beckons, calls her into its for-evergreen clutches. She knows the risk, but has to go anyway - just to see. She wonders what's beyond that dense facade.
Dreams come alive, breaths are drawn, lives are fully lived. The forest breathes its sigh of relief. It is a time of celebration, for La Luna has been reunited with her tribe deep in the forest of Unknowns. She finds her garden still being tended, lush and ripe for the taking. She has arrived.
Her journey reached the depths of the soul, the limits of her being, the edges of her periphery - and back again. She came back. There is no tomorrow, for the primordial power lies deep within her death, her rebirth, now.