She stood there proud and tall, defying the wrath of multiple foes.

The furious wind whipped past her, around her, striking her repeatedly, gnawing at her quivering body, entering the crevices of her arms, heaving and thrashing, whirling her around mercilessly, mocking her whispering adieu.
Above, a thunderous grey sky glared down, blinding lightening flashing across its grim face like a great scornful laugh, daring her to rise up to the challenge.
Hard rain, like kamikaze fighters, dove down upon her at frantic speed, sweeping off the earth from under her feet.
It was an uneven unfair battle but through it all she danced like a ballerina. Whirling and swaying, holding her pose for a fraction, as though waiting for applause, then bowing deeply before resuming her mad dance.

And what a wild dance it was…

On and on the battle chant played escalating towards it crescendo of glorious death. She twisted and twirled, taunting the skies, taunting gravity. With each recoil his fury built, his rage battering everything around into grim submission. Even the once proud sun retreated awkwardly behind a grey curtain. The onlookers quivered in apprehension, the creatures of earth fearful of the warriors of the sky, rooting for her in trembling trepidation.
Yet she stood, elegant and fierce, the graceful challenger in this vicious battle, dignified and defiant amidst the carnage of her injured and decapitated companions.

On and on she danced…

Until finally, like a bawling toddler who had exhausted his tantrums beating his fists against the bosom of a firm mother, his mighty wails subsided into occasional sniffles, the mighty wind sulked and stalked away.

And still she stood.

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5 thoughts on “The Dance of the Fierce

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