The origin of the moon.
Fenris and She sat beside the sea.
In the morning on the day the world was made, when the bright warmth spread over the sands and trees there was just Fenis, no She. He opened his eyes, a wisp of breeze brushing strands of hair over his eyebrows and forehead. He was new born and fresh. He blinked, relishing in the movement, smiling his toothed grin, and reveling in that movement too. Every muscle in his face was a new destination, a bright experience. Then he noticed the rest of his body. He was prone, laying on his back, arms and legs spread eagle. Tiny grains of sand, brilliant in their smallness, nestled around his body. The breeze pressed a few of them against his side. He smiled again as they tickled his skin.
Fenris shifted his back and hips, wiggling himself deeper into the cushion of warmth. Nothing but azure above him and warm below him. All his skin and muscles and tendons, even his bones and teeth. Everything felt alive. He closed his eyes, and opened them again, tensed and testing, to see if the blue would still be there. It was, unchanged and unmoved. He closed his eyes a second time and dared to breath. The pressure that had been building in his chest subsided.
“Ahh, what is this feeling?” his mind murmured. The air rushed in his nose, carrying with flights of something else new. “Smell, is this smell?” he thought as he snuffed. Fenris’ mind brought him images with each sniff. One smell was the big water that he could now hear as well, and he knew it was close enough to run and see. The next smell carried with it images of green against the azure, looking up, and being shaded from the sunlight. “Trees,” he thought, “yes trees I shall call them. And the big water will be the sea. What a day for discoveries.”
He sat up, clucking to himself as the sand rolled off his back, snickering in a secret way about the tickle that made his foot twitch, just the slightest bit. He leaned over himself, folding nearly in half, his nose almost touching the sand between his knees. His arms swung out, flinging handfuls of sand into the breeze as a whooping laugh bellowed. He threw back his head and straightened, face towards the sky, and pulled his knees to his chest.
“Now is the time to try. Now it’s time to find the other smells, and give them names,” he said to himself, loving the sound of his own voice, mixed with the echoes from his laughter bouncing off and around some hidden at the moment rock face. “I will find each smell, each color, yes that” he said, pointing out the sand to himself, “is a color. It is a warm, and a type, and a color.” He laughed again, standing and shaking the sand off of his limbs.
The morning Fenris spent looking for each smell. He found the flower, one he called purple. He found the rock face that made his voice come back to him. The rocks he named, “Granite. See see?” he questioned himself, pointing to a hole near the base, large enough for him to stand in “And that, that will be called Cave.” He sauntered on the gritty patches in the clearing, surrounded by tall straight, moaning trees. The wind picked up and the trees with the great fan leaves started to bend and whisper to each other. One dropped what looked like a granite, right at Fenris’ feet. He stopped, mortified.
“Tree, how dare you throw granite at me?! I gave you name Tree!” Then he sniffled and snuffed, picking up the scent of this new granite. “No ho, Tree, this is a gift, I see. You could not bend enough, though, to give it to me, I see I see. Up there in your hair, you keep these. We shall call them nuts, yes nuts,” he addressed the tree, picking up the coconut in his right palm. “Yes tree, yes. I will see about these nuts. Thank you, but for now, yes now,” he answered sharp and short as if the silent tree had interrupted him, “I must find the rest of the smells.”
When the sun was high, very high, so high it looked small, Fenris felt like he had found almost all of the smells. The plants, as he had named the things with green, all had their own names. Many different looking granites also had sub names, last names, little and short easy to remember names. The big water had a different name then the burbling stream behind the rock face. Everyone had a name.
“And me, I am Fenris, first and namer of these,” he yelled from the top of the rock cliff that jutted over the water. He leaned out, his knees on the shale under him, his palms being cut by the edge of the ridge. He leaned out as far as he could without losing balance, the wind buffeting his face, blowing his hair back away from his half lidded gray eyes. “I am he, I am me!” his voice was picked up by the wind and delivered back into the forest, so he howled again with laughter, his chin out, eyes closed, and face to the sun. “I am mmmmmeeeeeeeeeee!”
The wind stole his howl and smuggled it across the forest to the other side of the island. Fenris had not yet ventured there, did not yet know that his domain was completed surrounded by water. On a similar cliff, with the wind blowing her pearl white hair into her face from behind, She heard his howl. She smelled Fenris’ smell, something new to her, something she had not yet named. She turned on her palms and knees, then stood, darting between the ferns, to follow the smell and sound of, of, of… “He?” She thought, “Is that the opposite, the other of me?” As She ran and dodged through the juggles of vines and ribbed coconut trees, her violet eyes scanned, silently ticking off everything that was familiar. “Tree, yes, and fern, yes, sand, water, bird..maybe I’ll eat him later,” her thoughts stalled momentarily, surprised by a sound in her stomach. “The fish jumped in the pond, that smell is not him. Will the opposite be named already? Will his name be She? Will he look like me, made of sun and bright? Or will he be dark like the hole in the rock, like the deepest water?” Distracted, She did not notice tangle of roots and leaves until she’d already stumbled into them, tangling herself as her face skidded on the sand and pebbles.
That had been this afternoon. Now, with the bright sun sinking into the big water, the sea, Fenris and She lounged beside the water. She snuggled closer to him, her savoir. Fenris heard her cry out when she tipped in the forest and ran to her sounds, ripping at the roots with his hands and teeth. She shivered nuzzling her heard onto his chest. He tucked his chin into her hair, breathing in her opposite of him and alluring smell. Yes, she was She and he was he. The sun touched the water and the water flared. They both gasped, fear tightened his grip on her.