Tawiyela: The Deer Woman

Tawiyela

A red skinned woman lies in the freshly fallen snow on the side of the road. Kneeling beside her, I brush the icy crystals from her cheek; she is alive. I gather her into my arms and carry her to my cabin.

Watery footprints follow me across the den to the sofa where I lay her. I cover the woman with a wool blanket and turn to the stone hearth. Stirring the smoldering embers, I rekindle the fire.

The woman wakes. Are you okay? She remains silent. Her eyes are like a doe, both scared and innocent. As she stares as me in silence, I drown in those eyes.

She drops her bare feet to the floor and walks to the window. Staring out into the night, she whispers in a foreign dialect and drops her head. I walk over to her and regard the winter storm brewing outside. Will you stay? The woman’s doe eyes meet mine; she smiles at me. I think this means yes.

The woman comes to me during the night. She slips into the bed and I surrender to her touch. Her lovemaking is fervent, her hunger insatiable. In the throws of our coitus she moans in her strange tongue. I understand her not, but our bodies speak the same language.

Sunlight pours into the room and I wake-alone. I find the woman outside, standing in the snow. She stares intently into the forest. I join the woman and beckon for her to come inside. She shakes her head and begins to walk towards the woods. I grab her hand, Please, don’t go. She presses her lips against mine one last time, then turns and flees.

I run after her, but the woman seems to fly across the snow and I cannot match her pace. I continue to follow her trail of footprints, but when I turn my gaze downward, I see that they are deer tracks. I look up again and see the white tail of a fleeing deer, but the doe stops. She turns to look at me. I know those eyes.

Then, Tawiyela, the deer woman, disappears into the depths of the forest.