[P] kiss me, and you will see how important I am;

[Amaroq]

in his own country Death can be kind At last it is winter.  The kelpie had begun to think that it never came here; summer crawled on and on, hot and thick, until it scorched the grasses brown and ran the creekbeds dry. Not until autumn showed its teeth in evening winds and laid its frost upon cold ground did Amaroq begin to hope.  And more than hope.  When the first flakes spun down like bits of stars he smiled on his lonesome stretch of beach and breathed out ice. When the first full moon of winter rose, huge and near as a world he might yet explore, the unicorn laughed as he rode the breakers and hunted seals among the midnight tide-pools. Oh, how hungry he was! Oh, how strong! Yet still alone.  It is a loneliness that eats at him, while being part of his own sharp hunger. It is a loneliness that verges on madness, that floods his mind with instinct and not reason. Now, in winter, it is a need and not a want, and it drives him up to shore, a lovely ghost among the horses that walk on land and do not dream in salt and tides.  He prowls like a wolf along the shale of the beach; he hunts like a unicorn up and down the coast. Frost follows in his tracks, ice climbs delicate as a spiderweb up his horn, forming lovely patterns too small to see. His need makes him bold; the winter and the moon make him beautiful.  There is snow on the black rocks of the shore when he finds her again (this girl who he has seen always from a distance), and the seagulls’ cries hang in the air even after they have passed. There is a mist over the water and though the sun is not yet set the moon is already up, a watchful eye. When Amaroq turns from it he sees her, and his horn points like a finger.  Careless of her spear and her wings and her cold basalt eyes he approaches, smiling like a wolf. Though he leaves some space between them his eyes beg her to come near, nearer yet, close enough that their skin might smell of salt together, close enough they might dream the same dreams (he has so many dreams to share). “You come so often to the sea.” He says to the girl. “Are you looking for god?”  @Marisol amaroq