A Moon That Cries For The Star

The air was fresh today, blowing almost lazily like it was taking a break in this warm summer afternoon. Sunny light falls over the porch and glints his black fur with white sripes. He's my tiger and I'm glad that he agreed to come out to my cottage with me. I can remember coming here ever since I was a little dragon with budding wings. It's one of my favorite places; he's one of my favorite furs.

'Will you sing to me again, Laju? Will you remind me of how the stars dance and the moon cries at the sight?' I wish that it was dark so that I could watch it happen while I listen. But for now, I satisfy myself with the memories of nighttime. His paws close around my talon and he hugs me from behind. I feel his rough tongue run gently through my black mane, ruffling a few of the hairs out of place. A deep purr that is rumbled through the back of my neck emits from his throat.

'Of course I will.' He breathes deep and relaxes his great chest, not nearly half as large as mine but large nontheless for a tiger. It's almost as if I can feel the music running through him already and through myself by proximity.

The stars were born and bored came they

After thousands of years of watching the world

One slept and others followed

And the sky fell still at night and day

'Til ere the stars 'woke.

To wake, they moved

Danced and turned

An elegant movement

Traced across the sky

And they sang.

The moon, in her steady path,

Crossed o'er theirs and

She loved them

And so she cried

At their beauty.

My tiger is absolutely beautiful and I see him as a star and myself the moon. This song is the one of us and how things will be. Out on the porch where none but the animals can see us, it reflects to the trees. And I wonder how long he'll sing this song to me. It's short, but he repeats it and it runs together so smoothly that I almost don't believe that it ever ends. Maybe there are more verses, ones that he's just never gotten around to singing. I don't know, I usually fall asleep soon after the first three.

When I wake up, he's still here, still holding me. My tail stretches on its own, swishing dust across the ground and into the air. The wind's still blowing.

I stretch my legs and lower back in slow pulling movements down the stairs of the porch tht I've been sleeping on for I don't know how long. The sun's setting and burning the sky.

'Laju?' I roll my eyes back in my head, trying to see him.

'Yes?' He covers my eyes with his paws in a tease.

I reach up and take his paws in my talons and give the soft growl as passes as affectionate for a dragon. 'Will you always sing for me?' One of my wings twitches slightly, clicking together the glass feathers.

'What do you want me to sing?' It moves again and starts to shiver, but that's not right. I'm not cold.

'The song of the dance of the stars and the moon's tears. Will you sing it forever?' My other wing starts to jerk slightly.

'I promise,' he mumbles. Suddenly, both sets of wing muscles by my shoulders start to spasm and move uncontrollably. The quill feathers are aching and I can't stand the steady build up of pain. Tears are rolling from my crimson eyes and I'm clutching desperately to the tiger who holds me.

Birds fly to the sky in refuge, attempting to escape my screams and bellows of confused rage and pain. This can't be happening. Why are my wings hurting?!

Suddenly, the pains stops. It quiets from my mind and a ringing sound replaces it. A sound of shattered glass tinkling against itself.

My wings ...

Tears stream down my face even faster now as I realize what has happened.

All around me, a tinkling noise, so pretty in itself, symbolizes so much ... and so little.

My wings are broke in an innocent sound.