Linda has taunted us with a new prompt which is: Your Friday prompt for Stream of Consciousness Saturday is “abash/a bash/bash.” Use “abash,” or “bash” as a noun or a verb. Bonus points if you manage all three. Have fun!
(Please head over and find other bashful Stream of Consciousness posts in the comments!)
It does sound like fun and here is my contribution:
I’m on the prowl again.
Hanged up my business suit at home and let the full moon do its thing. It has been so long since I let my nature manifest in full. The energy surges through my body when the fur appears. There is a call from afar. The enraging odour of a bash of innocents infiltrates my senses when I lose consciousness and only hear my howl.
Minutes later this creature is on the road down a winding path into the woods. It has chosen her home well. A lonely hilltop hut which has an ancient flair about it. The wood was worked when settlers first arrived and hasn’t seen a coating of colour in years. Deep red flakes off the square walls but the roof is always taken care off well.
Years ago she has made an unlikely alliance with the little ones living in her woods. She saved one of them and as soon as she leaves for her business they come surging in to bring spells and wood and nails into the right position.
But I am losing track of her. She is already down the slope full of ancient pines. Some of the quickentree bushes are broken by her agile body but the ivy knows to get out of her way when she is in full prowl mode. There is a little brook that meanders along the valley at the bottom of her territory. She stops for a moment. She moves her elegant body backwards so her front paws stretch out. A sigh escapes from somewhere. She stands up and listens, her nostrils open to detect anything coming her way: Danger, lust or pure revenge. It does not matter now.
They know to stay out of her way when the moonlight enhances her prowess like this. It happened that she bashed the head of one of her mates against the rocks when she was too passionate in mating. But her mating days are gone. It’s just no one knows this yet. And today was another matter at hand.
She prowls again. Someone dared to violate one of her sisters. Awareness of domestic violence for decades but for some nothing changes. And she does not care which form her sisters have: Girl, woman, crone, human, shapeshifter or animal when one of hers is violated she hears the call she can not ignore. Someone dared to abash one of her sisters. She feels the little one cower in a dark corner. Shame and fear all over her. But not for long. “Not for long, sister” she whispers and starts running…
I wake up in the corner of the bathroom. I always do. Trained myself years ago so I just had to start the water and regain full consciousness and let he gore run down the drain. But I have already forgotten this matter. I leave the bathroom and put on the business suit and head for a cup of coffee.