The Rabbit and the Wolf

[sunlake1]

There is a rabbit and a wolf at the dinner table. The rabbit taps its foot against its metal seat, letting the th-thump, th-thump, th-thump of its rhythm resound through the air.  A meal of berries lays before the creature, but still, it does not eat as its attention is on the guest before it.

“You first?” The growl strums the atmosphere and the wolf’s yellow eyes glimmer with a yearning. For what? That is unclear and the two continue, the rabbit t-tap-tap-tapping and the wolf peering at the rabbit.

Then finally the light flickers above the two meal partners and in the second the darkness ascends, something changes. Before long, the wolf and the rabbit are illuminated again. The berries still before the latter, yet something is different. 

The wolf twitches its tail, swinging it back and forth, back and forth. And the rabbit looks up at the wolf, eyes shimmering. Not with fear as one might assume, but with a yearning. 

“Why should I be the one to start?” There is no quiver in the rabbit’s voice. No, it’s steady and confident.

And I, both observer and object of this scene, feel this deep in my bones. A soundless understanding that both rabbit and wolf is I, Ashly, two dual identities in one. So I laugh, letting their meaningless questions reverberate around me. Rabbit? Wolf? I am me.