She plaits bright coloured ribbons and lavender into cascade of raven’s hair. Sitting in keep’s deep window-well, silvered, frosted air touched her cheek. Unmatched eyes of obsidian and jade, flecked with gold, takes in diamond-etched nightscape below her perch.
Contrast twixt clothes and hair was as with her eyes. She wore a jerkin, leggings, long vest, all in forest shades, and boots of buttery leather. No dress of fine linen and silk. She picks up her bow and quiver, leans out window, calling to her steed.
Magnificent white beast responds, moving out of cloud-scudding shadows, pawing earth beneath tower in anticipation.
“Yes,” she thinks, “Tis a good night for hunting.”
Men are in the woods, hunting unicorn. And, to their surprise and folly, she and her unicorn will stalk them. These hunters now the hunted; this night’s prizes. No unicorn blood will be spilt. Only that of man.
Elsevier shakes her head, emerging from some inner revelry, as tour guide continues, “. . . as we enter the herbalist garden and shed . . .”
She smiles at final tapestry chapter. She whispers,“You shall have freedom.” Static woven unicorn melts into fluid silvery night below a tower. Dips head in recognition, shining horn towards Elsevier.
Stitcheried and woven through writing prompts: Sue Vincent’s #writephoto tower: Michael’s Tale Weavers 142: the Unicorn, and my fascination with Hunt of the Unicorn tapestries at the Cloister’s Museum in New York City.
This is a slide show of the Cloister’s Hunt of the Unicorn Tapestries (more or less in order):
October 17, 2017 at 8:43 pm
Absolutely wonderful – I enjoyed every word of it.
LikeLike
October 18, 2017 at 11:13 am
Thank you! I Magic of the unicorns at work.
LikeLiked by 1 person
October 17, 2017 at 3:24 am
This is indeed a lovely story . Elsevier and her white unicorn hunting stupid men! We need her here and now!!
LikeLike
October 17, 2017 at 12:19 pm
I thought about that. She could do ALOT of good — and a unicorn would bring some magic and hope back into the world.
LikeLike
October 17, 2017 at 4:59 pm
If only🥀
LikeLike
October 16, 2017 at 5:40 pm
Men are car too easy to hunt as a sport. We are too busy telling tales of past conquests to actually catch anything. 😉
LikeLike
October 17, 2017 at 12:18 pm
And leave yourself open to be preyed upon. I suspect the bears and the wolves have a good laugh.
LikeLike
October 17, 2017 at 12:47 pm
Wolves definitely are more likely to target us. Bears are fairly indifferent food is food to them
LikeLike
October 18, 2017 at 11:14 am
Ask a grizzly, or a mother and her cubs . . .
LikeLike
October 18, 2017 at 2:34 pm
I prefer to play with black bears. They just want fed with as little involvement as possible
LikeLike
October 16, 2017 at 1:11 pm
Lovely to have a story from you again, Lorraine! And such a good one too…
LikeLike
October 17, 2017 at 12:16 pm
Thanks, Sue. I do check to see what photo you provide, and there are a couple of incomplete stories to match. I write sporadically these days. But Thursday is always #writephoto in my mind.
LikeLike
October 17, 2017 at 5:51 pm
It was really good to see your name pop up again, Lorraine :)
LikeLike
October 18, 2017 at 11:15 am
Thanks! Always good to read your prompts and replies.
LikeLike
October 18, 2017 at 12:27 pm
😊
LikeLike
October 16, 2017 at 11:51 am
Perfectly slipped into the reverie, which, as you’ve penned it, leaves the room for considering alternate realms/lives —- I really like how you’ve done this – and break or arc of the story – as tour guide continues, “. . . as we enter the herbalist garden and shed . . .” – is seamless ….. wonderful use of the prompts Lorraine. :)
LikeLike
October 17, 2017 at 12:14 pm
I felt the unicorn nudging me — and I complied. I often feel like I’m juggling the real and surreal world myself.
LikeLiked by 1 person
October 18, 2017 at 1:51 pm
I so hear you on the juggling act ;)
and just because
(((((((((((((Lorraine)))))))))
LikeLike