Emma Heals the Wolf

Her small gentle hand touched his shoulder, and she was surprised by the power of his blood, the thickness of his fur. He had finally found her and fought his way to Spain, enduring the attacks from creatures of the night.

She accepted his repentance on a level most could not comprehend. The lies were over. She could sense so much love now in his heart as her hand went further to his chest.

His wolf beauty nearly took her breath away as her light ignited, healing the wounds. Unconscious he barely knew she was there. Yet in his sleep he felt her presence.

Each wound, each particle of pain was taken. Exhausted when the restoration was done, Emma fell asleep on his massive chest, barely noticing he had shifted back to human.

She tucked in her wings, sighing in her sleep contented.

Barcelona had been very, very good to them.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Reader’s Guide

I offer a wide variety of work here, and I want you to enjoy what I write. So, I thought it would be useful to have a short guide to my blog and recent goings on. I love writing and I’m so glad you’re here!

Time Traveler/Emma

Emma started out as a shape-shifting time traveler but has been changing recently. She has wings now. She is definitely supernatural, but she is not an angel or evil. I’m currently formulating some more of the supernatural for her! At times, these standalone pieces of minifiction are a little dark or edgy and that’s ok. Her heart is healing but will she find love? And is that what she is really looking for?

A Trans Woman/Ally and Friends

Ally is trans and is developing some friendships while dealing with being mistreated and rejected. She’s also attempting to discover more of who she truly is. We watch her new friendships develop. Some of my readers don’t like these stories, but I can’t write for just one group of people. I write about what I think is important. In the future the titles will be called Ally and Friends. These are stories about fictitious yet real people and real problems, with a touch of romance.

Poetry

Yes, there is still poetry! I love writing about nature, healing, restoration of our spirits also called renewal. Thus, the title of my blog. And most of my work over the past several years has been poetry.

Additional Fiction

On this site there is a ton, and I mean a ton, of fiction material. There is Historical Fiction about Native Americans, Romance Fiction, and even some Science Fiction. I need to start deleting it to make some room!

Some of my personal favorites are about Native Americans. And I still love their names I invented including, Thunder Speaking, Cricket in the Meadow, Two Wolves, Skye, Bluebird and many others. Cricket in the Meadow was a Medicine Woman or Holy Woman.

You can find these and more by using the menu bar on the top right of my homepage.

Thank you so much for being here and reading!

Peace.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Playing in the Woods

When I was a kid and into my teens, I played in the woods a lot. I was in the creek, walking the trails and there was a swing attached to the largest tree I had ever seen before, or since then.

I was very spiritual and loved historic Native American culture and Asian views of the world. In fact, I have always loved other cultures, people that are way different than I am. I’ve never lost that. My favorite academic pursuit is not writing but anthropology.

I couldn’t find God in church though. Where was He? It wasn’t until many years later that I had a personal experience with God, in the traditional sense. And I ended up clearly on the right culturally and politically.

I didn’t stay there though. Over time I began to see things that were “off”. Disturbing things really, like the way they treated women, and racial prejudice. And there was always a condemnation of others, anyone different than they were, even other Christians.

I changed spiritual directions due to tragedies in my life. However, I also became a much more open, non-judgmental person. I’m no longer a Republican. I left that mess years ago. And an evangelical church is out of the question now. That’s no longer a part of me.

I care a lot more about people now, still holding onto the core of who I am. I love and respect all people (except for bullies) I still seek to be spiritual, while loving other cultures!

So there you are! Or rather here I am!

Thank you for being here!

P. S. I still love to play in the woods.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

In the Starkness of the Grey Dawn

In the starkness of the grey dawn, within the shadows of her heart, Emma hovered above the stone walls in the strength and immensity of her own wings. Palermo was such an ancient city, filled with mysteries.

She was searching for the one, the one who said he would love her, a promise made.

Yet something told her…..to wait.

And there…..he was running in the courtyard……chasing a rabbit? He quickly began changing unaware she was watching, and became more and more of jaw, and fangs and fur. A wildness took over his eyes. And then…..she looked away devastated. Sensing the pain.

She had seen it all and decided she would never know the strength of his thighs, the sweetness of his breath. He would never touch her. He had told her he was not violent, and he lied.

He was nothing but horror and blood. Part wolf she could understand, but a liar? A killer? Never.

She quickly summoned more of the grey clouds to hide her escape. Calling forth the wind and the rain, thinking they would cleanse her of what she had seen and her stupidity for trusting him. She drew herself in, with the comfort of her wings. She aimed for Milan.

He never knew she found out his secret, only that there was something strange in the wind that day, and in the rain…..

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Survivors V – We Belong

A fishing line, complete with hook and bobber flew into the air, landing finally into the water with a plop. Then Grey threw his into the air, with his good arm but his line didn’t go nearly as far. He was still nursing wounds from being attacked by wolves.

They had followed the creek which flowed into the river. The river water always seeming to hold a deeper yet softer song.

“I can’t believe you thought of fishing poles and a tackle box! Is there anything you don’t have stored in the lodge?” Grey was a lot freer with conversing ever since their talk yesterday about sex. Brie explained, “It all came from my Grandfather’s place….wait….I got another one!” she started reeling it in like a pro.

That made 3 for her, to his 1. All of them trout. After she dehooked the fish and dropped it in their bucket, Grey asked, “Do we really have 2 years’ worth of food stored?” Brie nodded, “Almost, thanks again to my Grandfather. His cabin is about 20 miles north of here….in bear country.” “I got one!” It was Grey’s turn now.

After they had enough fish, they sat and talked for a while. Baby Bluejay was awake but still quiet, tucked in her harness. When Grey asked about her tribe, Brie hesitated and looked sad. “There aren’t any tribes….not anymore.” He hadn’t thought of that.

“There’s something much more important than our bloodlines though”, Brie said with a serious look. “I’m a Lodge Maker. I learned it from the Mandan. And you? When were you going to tell me, you were a Bow Maker?”

To be honest, he had forgotten to tell her, but how did she know? Brie continued, “Do you realize how important all this is? We are starting over you and I, and we belong here! A Lodge Maker and a Bow Maker brought together, that’s not just a coincidence.”

Grey was thoughtful and nodded silently. He sighed and when he breathed out he added, “We have to get rid of the guns anyway…. they’re not safe around the children….”

Brie just looked at him…. with a sly smile.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Thank you so much for reading!

The Survivors III – New Name

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 years from now.

It was one of those warm summer days where the refreshing creek soothed every part of them. They sat together just listening. Even baby Jay seemed calmed by the sounds of the water, and the smell of the it in the air. It had been 10 days since her daughter was born, and Brie was still amazed by this wonder of new life. Jay was strapped on the front of her.

He was quiet and his face was reflecting the sunlight dancing on the water. A fish jumped. He was convinced that fish would someday soon be dinner. There was no war anymore, and death seemed distant in this peace. A mother deer and her fawn approached the creek, on the other side, and upwind from where they were sitting. They both watched while baby Jay slept quietly.

“I hate hunting.” It was Brie breaking the silence in a whisper. “I only hunt in order to survive.” He silently nodded his head with understanding. And that was one thing she liked about him, he never really said much but he understood her. There was always that silent, gentle strength too.

“And we need to find you a new name.” She said in her normal voice having already scared the mother deer and fawn away. “What’s wrong with my name?” She looked at him with that “you should know this” look and said, “You know how I feel about missionaries…..how they treated my people.” There it was again, the silent head nod of understanding. “I get it” he said.

Baby Jay stirred and Brie figured it was almost time for a feeding. Brie shifted, deciding she knew the name…. “Grey Wolf…..that’s what we should call you!” “What?? I was nearly killed by wolves!” “Yes, but grey is my favorite color….and to be honest it suits you.” Suddenly Brie began a sly smile, “And besides, your name will remind you…. that I saved your life.”

H’mm, he liked that a lot, and he told her so.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

The Survivors

From the Apocalyptic Journal – 83 Years from Now

He smelled wood burning but it was the tug on his chest that woke him up. Someone or something was pulling on his left bicep. And for some reason he couldn’t open his eyes.

“Hold still!” A woman’s voice pushed him back down again when he tried to sit up. He forced one eye partially open, “Stitches?” he asked. She must have pulled him away from the wolves, and she was stitching him up. He passed out again from the pain.

When he awoke, he was inside the earth……wait no……he was in an earthen lodge. The wind outside told him they were in the middle of a tenacious storm. She offered him a bowl of something warm. All she said was, “Drink.” He did, and it was smooth warmth going down. He tasted honey, ginger and lemon. Lemon? Where did she find a lemon?

She looked at him with a knife in her hands. waving it at him “I know you’re immune from the last disease, otherwise you wouldn’t be here….my name is Brie, and I think we should help each other…..but if you ever hurt me……you will be a dead man.” She meant it and he knew it. He tried to say he would never do such a thing…but he couldn’t speak it.

Her face was beautiful and round, but she had one scar on her right cheek. A knife fight? She had long black hair, and he realized she was from one of the tribes. She had the smell of buckskin and lavender.

“The drink will help you sleep……I’ll need your help in a few days, delivering.” It was only then he noticed she was very pregnant. He fell into a deep sleep……thinking that she was attractive, but he was worried about the knife……. at least he did know how a child is born……

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Time Traveler II

I’ve never been held prisoner in Belgium, yet the nights here are quite strange. I found there is more than one phantom flying over the castle at night. I can never see them when I’m a human though, only when I’m a bat or an owl. In other words, a creature of the night.

And the Countess is a bit of an oddball to be honest. Young and beautiful, but constantly whispering under her breath. I’ve caught her watching me several times. And once…..out of the corner of my eye……

I thought I saw her walking through a wall, her long auburn hair the last bit of her flowing through. Is she even real? To be honest, I don’t know.

Yet form changing, in your time you call it “shape shifting” is a new skill for me, and being an owl is magnificent! These wings! And at night I can see everything for miles.

So for now I avoid the Countess, and I sit in one of these very tall trees that have been here for hundreds of years. My favorite are the elms.

Besides, lately I’ve acquired a taste…….for mice.

Regards,

Emma

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Wildness

There was a certain wildness in her hair, yet she really loved the gentleness of his strength. They met that first day on the same trail from the opposite directions, with diverging angles. He noticed her boots, they were much better than his, and she noticed the brightness of his smile. He said as they got closer, “No masks!”.

She chuckled and they talked for a while, sitting on some logs. They talked some more, and then some more, and they did what many young lovers do, even on their first date…..

they had lunch.

Crackers and cheese, with apples, and bottled water. They did finish that trail, and many more after that, yet together. The last I heard she still does not have control of her hair…..and to be honest…..that’s just fine with him.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed

Time Traveler

Belgium. I always loved this place but never the time period. Women’s dresses showing too much of our tops, every breath putting us on display. My name had changed many times, but here I was Emma.

As I stood on the veranda, overlooking the gardens, the house, also known as the “castle” had called me here, there was no doubt about it, assuring me I could change form and practice it. The night wind moved in as torches on brick walls cast shadows. I summoned my shawl, the navy blue, my favorite, with a snap of my fingers.

It gently draped over my shoulders, and I was enfolded in the dark color. I decided to wave my arm and changed easily into a bat, flying above where I had just stood. I looked down. Another wave, this time with my dark wing and I was the night….

I don’t mean I was part of the night or blended with it….I was the night. The sensation was incredible. And as I expected, the phantom came straight for me, barely visible. Cloaked in black and grey, a faint outline really, with an angry look on his face. He demanded, “Who are you?” “Are you the one with the red-haired Countess?”

I nodded, then realized I had no head, so I simply whispered, “Yes.” I couldn’t help it, but his bad manners prodded me, so I added, “And by the way it’s auburn.” “What??” he said. “Her hair is auburn….” I giggled and with another wave of my arm I was back to being a bat.

Overall, I counted the night as a success, as I flew around the veranda with torches casting shadows on brick walls.

Writing and Image Copyright © 2021 rivers renewed