The Brute and the Maiden

The brute lived under the enormous tree, with the lines on his face and forehead etched as if his frame was made of that same wooden bark.

He was tall and extremely strong. He killed things with his hands, and had not known the softness that fire can create in hard meat.

He lived with his instincts, sleeping deeply but awake to danger. He had not known affection, and had never seen his mother, or another of his species. He had never tasted the warmth of milk, and had never felt a caress or a kiss.

He was alone, alone like an unknown island in the sea, alone like a mountain in a desert, alone like an eagle in the summer sky.

He was alone, more alone than the trees and the birds and the raindrops and the yellow leaves which made up his bed.

...

One day as he woke up before it was light, he saw a radiance at a distance, as if the moon had come down to earth.

He hurriedly stood up, and tip-toed to see where-from the light had descended on that land of the wild.

It was a naked maiden, with a body like his own but different in a strange way. The maiden was glowing from within, and there was a fragrance all about her.

Something stirred deep within him. A feeling that he had not known before. Blood rushed to parts of his body and caused sensations which were hitherto unknown to him.

...

He lifted the maiden in his strong arms, and carried her to his abode, beneath the enormous tree. He spent hours and days marveling at her body and her fragrance and her glow, and never for a moment left her side.

...

One night as he was sleeping, the maiden slipped beside him, held his hand softly, and kissed his lips. Every hair on his body stood up.

Their bodies intertwined, and it was hard to see where one body ended and the other began. He suckled at her round breasts, and the forest vanished around him.

From that day, he became her slave, her lover, and her protector.

Their days and nights slid into a comforting pattern, and he was no longer that afraid of danger. He no longer lived day by day, but had started saving food and supplies.

...

Many years passed.

One day the maiden was no more to be seen. The brute had lost his instincts for life in the wild and had grown soft and indolent.

Wild animals started threatening him with their howls and screeches, and he no longer slept on the ground, but was usually found up in tree.

He was alone again, but was incomplete. No longer was he the mountain, no longer the island, no longer the eagle.

...

Slowly the memory of the maiden left his brutish brain.

He started running again, his muscles became more pronounced as he again started killing things with his hands. He was again a wolf, alone again, but not of the same strength.

His eyes no longer focused, but flitted and were restless, looking for a light that he had once seen before dawn.

He became despondent and was not content anymore to come to his tree every night. He became a traveling hunter, homeless and without shelter.

...

Every night he dreamed of that maiden, now faceless, and was not sure anymore if his dreams were ever a reality. He no longer remembered her face but his organs never let him forget how he had felt.

He wondered how long he was going to be restless and discontented.

Gods finally had mercy on him and gave him an iPad. He went Lady GaGa over Kim Kardashian and spent the rest of his life in a hole in the ground, playing Angry Birds and Mafia Wars and tripping on Dubstep.