[identity profile] dragonfly-eyes.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] animal_quills

The window is open even though it's a cold, windy October night. I rarely close it - even with my headphones on, I like being able to catch the sound of cars on a nearby highway, or a bird perching on the eaves with a clatter. Besides all that, I like the cold; I'm bundled up against it in my housecoat and slippers but it still slips in underneath, and every so often there's a sensation of 'too warm' that clashes with cold and then is gone. I notice it only if I'm concentrating on it - it's as natural as sitting here and writing, and goes by quickly. Still, it's there for me to notice if I'd like to, and it's reassuring in its own way. Being an animal person is simple, most of the time. When I open my mouth, I open more, can feel the tip of my tongue elongated and the shape of my jaw sharper, longer, blurring between what is real and what isn't. Lolling tongue, yellow teeth. Human smile. Animal person. All that has been there for as long as I can remember; becoming aware of wolf allowed my recognition of it to go from an odd sensation into what it is.

So it went and so it goes with the long, thickly furred tail curled against the floor. Every so often the tip of it twitches, and then it goes still, unnoticed unless I want to notice it; it's there, though, and unmistakable. Sometimes I wake up and it's curved over my hands; sometimes I wake up and it's wolf, the fur more feathered out and the feeling of it shorter, practically immobile in contrast.Right now, though, it's snow leopard-tail, not wolf-tail. I've named the other; it's no longer simply not-wolf, the unrecognizable Other, but feline, snow leopard. Uncia uncia. Recognizing it means I no longer have the luxury of denying it, not unless I want to deny my being an animal person altogether, but the suspense and anxiety I felt earlier is anticlimatic. Some things are and some things aren't; snow leopard is. Snow leopard is self-assured and silently certain, completely aware of itself until the point where self falters and there are no words for the way snow leopard exists. (Its connections with Buddhism come as no surprise to me when I read of them.)

For a while, as I recognized and separated what was snow leopard, what was human, what was wolf - myself, complete - I was a little amazed that snow leopard had gone unnamed for so long. Wolf is a pack creature, aware more of others and the whole than of itself as an individual, but snow leopard knows that it is snow leopard. Snow leopard is content to curl up in a sheltered corner, phantom-tail over broad phantom-paws, and exist. I would have expected it to be hard to deny a part of myself so intensely aware and self-contained. Except snow leopard reaches a point, as I said, where it does not need to be acknowledged simply because it acknowledges itself by its existence. Its presence is so loud that it fades to white noise and then to silence. Air sounds. Wind. The sound of cars rushing down the highway.

There are so few words for snow leopard; part of it is the way I'm still feeling out what it is to be snow leopard, but most of it is simply that it needs no words. I could easily describe the sensations, the emotions of the shift, but not the way snow leopard lingers inside of me - twitching whiskers, tail outstretched, claws against frozen stone. Always whole. When I was only aware of wolf, I tried to force snow leopard to fit wolf. Sometimes I succeeded, but only superficially, thinking that wolf was something that it wasn't instead of the other way around. Comparatively, wolf is quiet, but snow leopard deafens until it may as well be silent altogether. Blizzard noise. As long as you shout above it for long enough, it's easy to ignore.

Eventually I think I'll be able to talk about how it felt to feel a tail that wasn't wolf, or a muzzle that wasn't long and angled but rounded, dotted with long whiskers that sometimes confused me, made me think that they were the shape of the muzzle instead. Right now, now that I've recognized snow leopard, it's too much to comprehend as anything other than what it is; it will not allow itself to be compared with wolf, yet. It drowns out everything as soon as soon as I focus on it.

For now, though, I'm not focusing so much. Rounded feline-ears turn slightly at a plastic crackle, wolf muzzle opens, tail-tip twitches.

I take a bite of my chocolate bar and smile. Human, feline, lupine. Whole.

Date: 2006-10-03 04:51 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] aloiis.livejournal.com
Ee. Catwords. *Purrs*
I love it.

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Animal Quills is a creative community for animal-people to share and discuss their written works. Over a hundred essays are archived here (many of which in locked entries). We focus on the concrete "here and now" experience of being animal inside, and other related musings (see our About page if you want to post).

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