A Consultation with the Hunter Constellation Rosemary Marr History made its own renditions. There are Gods in most. Titans in some. At times there is a scorpion or a princess. Or Artemis takes him as a lover and his head is pierced by her arrow. The end is the same. Orion’s fist clutches a lion’s throat His other arm is raised a club in hand to beat to batter to bludgeon the creature. The man cannot loosen his grip; the lion’s mane has tangled around his fingers. His nails are pressed too far into its throat. To relent is not an option. His fingers never catch a pulse. It is cold. And his hands are tired. There is no battle here. No war. No heroes. The lion is not alive. It never was.
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