A/N: I'm back in the Okami section, everyone! It's been quite a while since I've last written and posted anything, as I've only been writing for a certain roleplay I'm in. I apologize for not reviewing any of my favorite fanfictions here in so long, but I'll get up to date on that soon enough, I promise.
This is just a little drabble I thought up randomly, and decided to post because I've been inactive for so long. Reviews are appreciated, and constructive criticism welcomed, but no flames please.
She is dawn and day and sunset, the brush of light against the grass and the moonlit singer of a plea for the crimson illumination at the end of the night. She is a wolf, the wolf, of which lupine barks and howls are the wise words of a goddess in disguise, secret advice and ancient lore only decipherable by those who wish to listen with more than just their ears. She is the oracle and the seer, hero and healer in the body of a beast.
Mother and child to the earth on which we walk, She is all that is and all that will be and all that has been before. She is eternal, yet her true glory is prolonged only as long as the sun soars through the sky without being obscured by darkness. Her battle is eternal, her paws forever locked in graceful dances and twists and spins as she toils to exorcise that which she indirectly gave birth to. Day cannot live without night, as gods cannot be without demons. It is a game of Yin and Yang, day and night, life and death.
Holy Light is nothing without the deepest of Darkness to contradict it. The Mother of all that is knows this quite well, and so traps herself in the endless war against her polar opposite, the Emperor of Eternal Darkness. They dance like old partners, shafts of gold and crimson sunlight mingling with the shadowy webs of dusk with every motion, trailing across the air like an invisible canvas. Some days they'll waltz, some days it's the tango, which the goddess prefers for reasons she keeps to herself. Blades twist and flash in between steps, illuminated by glowing eyes and leering, snarling fangs.
There is no permanent peace for the guardian of all that is, not even when the sun rises and repels the demons for a time. The cherry blossoms below her snowy-white paws are her bed, petal-soft and welcoming; They're always there, but she never has the time to waste on such a trivial thing as rest. Prayer is the only sustenance she requires, her only offerings from the people she dutifully watches over. When her grace alone fails her in the great dance of life and death, the faith and love of her mortal children is enough to fuel her remaining strength, to let her fight again.
They say that gods can only exist for as long as they are believed in and trusted, that they are just as dependant of their mortal counterparts as the humans are of them. Okami Amaterasu, Mother of all that is, knows this well. She knows very well the circles and cycles of life, as she created them all, and is not exempt from them.
