The Wolf and the Aquarian Constellation.

I am an aquarian, one of the twelve

Zodiac constellations lying along the ecliptic

And apparent path of the Sun.

To myself...

I am the riddle in which the enigma is entombed.

A Spirit made to wander...

Come, Nakai...let us roam far and wide.

The wolf does not question my footsteps...

She simply falls in and walks by my side

She knows me...knows my wild desire to run free.

Just like her wild spirit was inherited from her ancestors

So is my dark inheritance a distant reverberation in my veins

A memory Loud and demanding, yet kept tame and docile.

Nakai too, has strange memories of the older wisdom

It is forever flowing through her essence...

♒

Aquarians are very strange creatures

Aquarian human people are beautifully weird

...if you try to get too close...I become a closed book

If my space feels invaded...uncomfortable

If you try to get to the heart of me

I tend to hasten away in fear of my thoughts

being stripped bare naked and my soul becoming exposed

My Spirit Guide is The Lone Wolf...together we roam the land - Nakai, the 'traveler', walks with me in my dreams. Together we are always seeking 'wokini' - new life, new journey and new beginnings.

Aquarius - Dreamweavers - Zodiac Trailblazers - unfortunately, most times they are weaving and blazing trails that only they can understand and exist within.

Aquarius - water bearers...strangely not of the sign of water.

January 20 to February 18 falls under Aquarius, an air sign ruled by Uranus:

Uranus - Planet of innovation and rebellion. Aquarians are often seen as the ones walking two steps ahead of time, carrying strange lanterns that illuminate futures most haven’t imagined yet.

Their Core Traits tend towards the - Inventive & Visionary. They have a knack for thinking differently - building surreal worlds and dreaming incessantly.

Aquarians have stubborn Independent Spirits: fiercely autonomous, they follow their own path, often dancing to rhythms no one else hears.

Never make the mistake of trying to force or bend their will. They will either pounce like an uncaged enraged lion, or silently fade into shadows they find sacred.

Deeply Idealistic souls, hidden beneath their cool, cerebral exterior is a heart that beats for justice, community, and the pursuit of truth.

They’re drawn to the strange and wonderful, often dressing, speaking, and creating in ways that defy the norm - They adore Unconventional Charm.

In the realms of Symbolism & Archetype:

The Water Bearer will share knowledge and nourish the collective. Aquarians often feel compelled to pour out their ideas, dreams, and revolutionary insights for the greater good. Just don't expect them to volunteer to speak of or about themselves without intense coercion. They are extremely private individuals.

Being Cosmic Rebels: They challenge outdated systems not for chaos, but for evolution.

Beware the 🌀 Mystical Flavors of Aquarius: They might host midnight salons where surreal poets meet electric violinists, or cultivate secret gardens where books bloom like roses.

In relationships, they crave depth...but also freedom. A true companion to an Aquarian doesn’t try to tether them… they fly beside them.

~~~~~~~

Mandla’s presence and the dissonance he brought:

Mandla...His peaceful, kind countenance masked the storm brewing beneath. Composed like dusk before thunder. His outward calm is a portrait of grace, yet somewhere behind his gaze, the cobra coils and waits.

He arrived with confidence, polished... blueprints of himself neatly folded beneath his arm, eyes already scanning the soil of her soul for the foundations he intended to lay.

He spoke in declaratives, not invitations. To him, the world moved best in straight lines, and curved thoughts were distractions, beautiful, but wasteful.

She listened at first, tilted her head like the wind testing a closed window, but his sentences left no space for moss to grow, no room for the starlit uncertainty she revered.

Mandla mistook her silences for agreement, her dreams for wanderings he could correct.

“Why not build your art with purpose”? He’d ask, meaning his kind of purpose - measurable, final, walls that hold, not imagination that roam.

But she was not a cathedral to be restored; she was a forest after the fire - new roots glowing with secrets no blueprint had foreseen.

So she stepped away, gently, like fog receding from a mirror. Not with anger, but with clarity.

She felt Mandla becoming the storm that wouldn’t kneel: A Refusal to see beyond his walls.

Beneath the tranquil brow once carved of dusk and discipline, Mandla's storm split open.

He did not shout - he multiplied exponentially. Quiet fury climbed his spine like stubborn ivy, until his breath trembled with his time forged truth. The vines told him to bow, to relinquish what pulsed in him like thunder chasing lightning. He did not.

He stood amid ruins - words torn, promises snapped - and refused the silence they tried to press into his hands. Rage was not recklessness for him; it was remembrance, a refusal to forget the wound anyone but him would call wisdom.

“Yield”, they said.

But he was rooted deeper than their shallow requests.

And when night came, cloaked and listening, it found him still there, unbent, unburied. The storm within had settled into resolve.

Beneath the weight of her silence, Mandla remained.

~~~~~~~

Where She was forced to Leave Him

She did not speak of farewell, only stepped backward into the mist, from whence she had come. Mandla stood still, the echoes of her absence louder than any storm within.

She left him not in cruelty, but in faith...that somewhere in the brokenness, the truth would rise.

Time passed strangely there. Hours sagged into dusk, and days finally begun to breathe newness. The scroll lay untouched. The piano un-played. The storm, once defiant, listened to his own rhythm and unraveled into questions.

He screamed once. Then knelt. Then rose again, not in rage but in recognition.

It was not her absence he sought to fill, but the hollows she left behind - shaped to hold a self he had yet to uncover.

When he walked forward, roots hummed beneath the soil.

Not glowing yet -

But promising.

...

But Her...

She walked forward...Grown in Wisdom.

Nakai by her side...Faithful...unquestioning.

She did not look back.