“My name is Kalliste.”
“That’s unusual, lovely, but unusual,” I bumbled.
“You may know me better by Callisto.”
“As in the moon of Jupiter?”
“Amongst other things.”
She blinked, and the world went dark. My heart stopped, body froze, even the birds fell silent in the forest. When she reopened them, I gasped; she smiled.
“My form affects you?” she purred like a Siamese cat.
“You… you… are very beautiful.”
“My apologies. I thought this form best suited when I fell from the sky.”
“More drifted, really.”
“I did not anticipate such obscure behaviour. Allow me to change.”
She did. In a burst of emerald and amber light, she grew in size, bulk, proportions. She towered above me and roared into the night, a bear of such magnitude as to frighten lions.
“Is this better?’ she growled. “I am the great bear fallen from the night sky, my image missing from the stars.”
And it was. Her constellation had vanished, in its place, darkness.
“Why are you here?” I asked.
“Even a nymph must mate,” her drooled reply.
“Maybe best as you was then,” I said, as I took off my shoes.