Dried grass rustled beneath our feet as we stepped down into the hollow. Overhead the blonde roots made a deep, vaulted ceiling, studded with mushrooms and textured with moss. Still cold from the rain outside, we huddled. The space was warm, and soon our shivers dissolved, and our clothes began to dry. Although there was no torch or fire in sight, a golden light bathed the hollow. The light seemed to come from the roots overhead. Nestled into the dried grass, we fell fast asleep, holding each other in a spooning embrace.
We slept for what seemed like hours. I do not know whether we made love, or dreamed that we made love, or both…but I do know that my body became a rigid crescent, and that her body enfolded mine…and that her softness nourished me, and that my blood surged within that softness.
Later, Sailor’s body became hard…and she shuddered, and cried. Afterwards we were both soft together, our cheeks hot, our bodies locked tight.
Then we were conscious, and our clothes were dry again, and soft against our skin. We sat upright in the hollow, and stared into each other’s eyes. As we did I felt an echo of the surge I’d felt before. My body was hard again, and I knew that I had held my potency.