Servant Stories

Winter white of my Queen’s desire the hunter of the night has come. She nods to me to let him in, and I do so without want of anything more. Upon his back he carries the skins and bones of coyotes hunted in the shadows of the tall forest pines, while the bear is left to sleep in his den of darkness beneath the stones, roots and grass so closely intertwined. He lays the hides upon the large, smooth stone alter along with t...