Yesterday I wrote a fun exercise for a workshop. The idea is to "convince" the reader that a fantasy figure exists by using mundane details. It seemed like an amusing tidbit to share for a quick read to celebrate the end of the week.
An original character of mine, a bit of a playboy, inspired research into Dionysis. Hence, that god is my character for this purpose. I hope you enjoy the brief cameo...
Dionysus inhaled deeply. Leaves crackling under his bare feet spiced each breath of air. The sun warmed his bare back and a breeze stirred his long hair. He heard a snarl from the trees as his leopards fought over scraps of their kill and he stopped walking.
Feline antics weren’t the reason for his pause. He heard a woman’s voice. One of his maenids called out from the top of Aventine Hill. He didn’t know if she meant it as summons but he decided to return and see. At any rate, the bacchanalia continued to rage from the night before. Whether he joined in the revelry or just watched his women, Dionysus knew his presence would honor them.
If he found a little pleasure in their activities, all the better. Only fools and pontiffs turned down a good time. Dionysus considered himself neither. He turned without further debate and began to retrace his steps up the path. He climbed as swiftly as his fleet-footed descent. Knowing that the cats would tend to a lengthy cleaning after their meal, he grinned and quickened his pace.
Plump, curving lips tightened with a hiss when a twig snapped under his slender foot, a jagged end stabbing his heel. He raised his knee, left arm outstretched for balance, and turned the injured limb using his free hand. Balancing his ankle on his right knee and inspecting the torn skin, he decided that one of his followers should cleanse the wound. Surely a kiss would lessen the sting.
Tomorrow he would begin his journey to Thebes. It would be good to see his satyrs again after his long and arduous travels through Asia. Today, however, he would devote attention to his adoring Roman maenads.