This Almost Didn't Happen, but Dinosaurs!

In the past few years many of my friends and acquaintances have asked me to start a blog ::blushes::. I took it as the compliment that it was and graciously explained to them that I was simply too humble and productive to write about my real life on the Internet. There was a silent agreement between me and whoever was asking that no one would call me out on this completely misguided view of myself. I really appreciate how nicely you all played along.

Updating your Facebook status on a daily basis with wordy and unsolicited descriptions of your family and world view is absolutely not the same as blogging. I began to view it as a challenge to fit all of my normally verbose feelings into something someone would want to read as they scrolled through their newsfeed at a traffic light (I'm sure none of you do this, because it's super dangerous and probably illegal *winks*.) I think I've gotten better at it over time and had started feeling pretty smug about how humbly I was scratching the itch to talk about myself, but then something happened. Something nothing in this world could possibly prepare me for (literally). I had a dream. A dream so life changing and defining that I wished I could re-dream it every night and bring all of my family and friends along to dream it with me. But that's not possible, because Inception is not real and Leonardo DiCaprio is probably not creeping into your dre technology to view the dreams of another person is still in the early stages of development and a dream is too long to share in a Facebook status and .... as you can see, I had a serious dilemma on my hands.

Which brings us here, my dear blogyeurs (©Me, to define those who enjoy reading as people vulnerably expose themselves on personal blogs. We're such creeps.), and without further ado, I will now humble myself by appearing completely un-humble, for the better of you all, so that you all may glory with me in the best dream anyone could ever hope to have. You are welcome.

The Hunt

The sun had just set behind the mountains in the west and the sky still held its light. We all stood in a loose circle watching her, our leader made fearless by grief. Her robust frame was rendered black against the reddened sky, but her curly hair still held its rust hue. She pivoted slowly as she locked eyes with each member of the tribe, reassuring herself that we knew the plan and offering us one last opportunity to bow out. She was young, we all were. We looked like lost boys with our ragged clothes and coon skinned caps, but we knew this was our best chance. If we kept letting them pick us off one by one, we would spend the rest of our days in fear, wondering who would be next. We needed to make a stand. This was our forest, our home. At last her gaze settled on my own. I held my breath until she nodded her head imperceptibly, her eyes flickering to the weapons in my hands. I held them tighter for her reassurance and mine. A cutlery set, mangled by age and use, was the only item we possessed that could accomplish this task. The fork in my left hand and the stone sharpened knife in my right. I had been chosen for this.  

We startled like deer for only a moment when she dashed into the trees, then fell in step with one another. The familiarity of the pace brought comfort as we wove in and out of trees into the darkened forest. We followed one another by ear, listening for the padding of feet in the soft duff, the flap of clothes in the wind, and gentle breathing until our eyes adjusted. We knew this could be our last trek with one another, but the habitual motion kept our legs from locking up with fear or grief. The death of our leader's mate was recent enough to keep us determined. That's why the assault had to be tonight, before time could weaken our resolve. Our friend would be avenged and we would not be cowed with dread or indecision.

Barely had my eyes adjusted when I saw her lope into a crouch and still. The rest of us followed suit. I could feel it then, the slight tremor in the earth, tree branches creaking before they snap, and a rumble more feral than the noise of boulders clashing, but no less averting. We skinked beneath the underbrush until we got a visual. The dim light still filtering in through the canopy caught movement among the upper branches. Great plates reflected an iridescent gleam as they swayed with the movements of a scaled spine. We were close enough now to hear its breathing.

I held my position as the group began spreading in a wide arc around the beast. Surveying the land before me, I spotted an outcropping of rocks slanting out of the ground a few yards ahead on my right. The precipice was fifteen or twenty feet above us. I angled my body toward it and waited. My legs burned as I continued to crouch. The thing approached laboriously, showing glimpses of its body between falling trees and breaking branches. It was scaled, and scarred, and probably hungry. 

It froze in place, one clawed foot still raised, just before the torches were lit, like he sensed it coming. A perfect circle of fire light encompassed him as the others began hurling stones and spears, hewn by their own hands, at the beast. It lifted its long neck and bellowed, a sound more like laughter than fear. I sprinted up toward the outcropping with sure steps and began my climb. I didn't look at its teeth or claws, sharper than any weapon we could dream up, a mockery to my cutlery. I set my gaze on its weakest point, the long slender neck he proudly displayed. The moment my feet reached the summit, I lunged; back arched, arms forward, eyes focused. The fork pierced one side of its neck as I swung my arm around and planted the knife in the other. I dangled there for a fraction of second and felt the warm wet blood on my fingers and down my wrists. When he reared to swat me away, I used the momentum to slide the knife down his throat. My body floated momentarily as his course reversed and he fell away, the cutlery slipping through my fingers. I landed with a thud and looked up at the stars now appearing above. My tribe came from the trees hooting and laughing and lifting me to my feet. I looked down at myself, clothes soaked through with dinosaur blood and hands shaking.

I awoke from the dream still smelling the forest and feeling brave. I felt exhilarated and victorious and capable of slaying any giant.

I hope you have dreams like this. Dreams that are hidden away in your heart or sometimes creep out into your sleep and remind you that you're capable of mighty things, like assassinating dino-dragons and becoming fearless when partnered with loyalty.

I hope you have dreams that remind you what it feels like to live with a tribe of people who will fight for you, be loyal to you, and lead you to victory.

I hope you know what it feels like to have a table laid out for you in the presence of your enemies, where you can feast on hope in the face of fear.

I hope you have dreams that whisperyell in the dark, hidden night and refuse to be ignored, no matter how humble you are.