S.j. Tucker Were-owl
Look long enough into the eyes of any creature, there's no knowing what you'll find. We all seek the light one way or another, mostly flying blind. Everything flies at the mercy of the moonlight, lovers more than most at times. You've sought the light where few have ever found it, captured deep in tawny eyes. Little one seek and ye shall find. Take care what you find in the tawny eyes of a hunter by night.
Who, who, who is it dares to find these feathers, stroke this skin? How, how, how can you dream of the night he spreads his wings to hold you, shows you all he knows and lets you in?
I've heard it said none but fools will ever count on shifting shapes and flying dreams. Foolish the heart that lights upon a love who's never what he seems: Shows one face at dawn and another in the twilight, kings have worn his shape before (kings have worn his wings before). Lord of the evening, so handsome in the sunlight, leaves you wanting so much more. Child, death is a dance on the forest floor!
Who, who, who is it dares to find these feathers, stroke this hide? Why, why, why set your sights on the night he spreads his wings to hold you, shows you all his heart and bids you fly?
shifting shapes and flying dreams love is never what it seems wears another skin by day be his love and not his prey
Who, who, who is it dares to seek the sun and still want more? How, how, how can you trust that he'll open up his wings to hold you, leave you brighter than you were before?
