Dark-Adapted Eyes

Thought and Memory, we are both one and two.

Thursday, March 02, 2006

Flight

Huginn: How do we fly? Is it enough that our bones are shadow and our feathers night? Is it that we must have nerves of flame and a winter's mind?

Muninn: My love, we never had those things. We were born of chaos and old night, but it was He with all his devious planning who wrought us, and lamb, and tiger, and archangel and all. And we are all one stuff, in three essences.

H: Did He who make the Lamb make thee? Why do we question? Why do we think? Why do you remember?

M: Three essences, one stuff. You are uncommonly jumpy tonight; you have seldom been like this.

H: We must take flight. We have been earthbound too long. I am asking mortal questions.

M: You're right. Mortal indeed! But who is the question, I wonder?


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