Note: This is a stand alone story inspired by a previous visit to the New Forest Wildlife Park, Hampshire.
Who am I?
I am everywhere, an onlooker in this forest. I am in the clouds of the sky, and the dirt deep underground. I watched as nature took its course, breathing its life into everything around; in the trees, the mountains. I helped nurture the trees, giant oaks and the tall birch, putting all the energy I had into detailing every dip and groove in the bark, each tree having their own character, their own soul. And when they grew dull, rotting away from the inside, I created a space for healing. Watched as old life gave way to the new. Each plant growing correctly to its season. I was there for mankind’s birth, when they were formed from the dirt, moulded into God’s image. Their Genesis. Even as the first man Adam was cast out, along with the first woman, I followed them even then. Watched as humanity spread out onto the Earth.
I am Time, and I have a tale to tell. Of a young boy and his wolf. A story that would seem small and insignificant, but it is the smallest things that bring out the best in life. I watch as new bonds are forged, while others fall and break. I watch as friendships are formed in the unlikeliest of places.
The stars were especially bright, seeming to hover just above the inky blackness that was a great lake. Surrounding it were vast moors, wet marshland, as well as large clusters of forest: made up of ash trees, oaks and pines. A large stream wound its way across the moor and between the trees, the lake being its final destination. It was a quiet night, a peaceful night, usual for those creatures who dwelled by the lake. The soft threads of cricket song were the only sounds, interrupted by the rare hoot of an owl.
A lithe figure stepped out from a copse of trees that bordered on the marshland, treading softly among the fallen pine needles, until they reached the calmer part of the stream, where the water trickled lazily over the smooth pebbles, and bent its head to drink. Now out in the open and no longer under the trees thick cover, the figure became bathed in the moon’s natural light. A wolf. Her wild mottled brown fur shone as she lifted her broadhead, her light breaths turning to clouds of mist in the cold night. Shaking the droplets from her narrow muzzle, the wolf turned and began confidently trotting downstream, her head was raised, the wind blowing the many different scents towards her keen nose. Something must have changed in the air, as the wolf froze, before lowering her body to slink forward silently, her amber eyes peering through the fauna that covered her.
Bright lights were what greeted her. They flickered and danced. Figures hovered around it. Tall Ones that were covered in pelts not their own, chattered and barked as they sat together. A confusing array of scents assaulted her, a strong scent of smoke from the fire almost overpowering, and the wolf gave a snort, quickly ducking out of sight when one of the nearby domesticated canines sat up ears pricked. No alert was sounded, and so she crept forward once again. She watched and observed, their actions not making sense to her mind. She salivated at the sight of teeth tearing into the meat they had hunted, and curled her lip to bare her fangs when the Tall Ones ventured too close to where she was hidden. They were a pack, a small group of Tall Ones the she-wolf had been following for the last few seasons; her and her own pack being driven to scavenging the scraps the Tall Ones left behind. She watched for a bit longer, her amber eyes glowing molten from the brightness of the fire, when her pointed ears picked up a howl that was familiar to her. It was a welcome call, inviting her to join the source.
Silently, turning away from the bustling of the Tall Ones, she loped in the direction of the call, her large paws flinging up dirt and pine needles as she almost seemed to fly over the forest floor; only to come to a halt just behind the treeline, that opened up into a steep hill leading down into a clearing. She grew still, becoming one with the forest that surrounded her, as she listened intently for the call to sound again. It did, echoing out of the little valley below, causing the night birds to go silent temporarily, before starting up their birdsong once again. Cautiously, the wolf left the cover of the treeline, treading her way down until she reached the bottom. Sand covered the ground, masking her footsteps as she made her way over to the small pond, bending her head to drink.
Rustling sounded behind her, and the wolf whipped round with a snarl, lips pulled back to ward off anything that might have tried to sneak up on her. A Tall One stood quite a distance away from her, obviously having stumbled into the clearing by accident, it looked ruffled and covered in dirt and other foliage. It was smaller than the others she had seen and was used to… a pup then. Nevertheless, it was too close for comfort, so she let out another snarl and snapped in it’s direction. Tall Pup let out a frightened sound at that, turning to scramble back up the dusty hill. She watched in silence as it paused at the top for a moment, staring back down at her. Tall Pup’s eyes bored into her, the she-wolf bristled, but he merely opened his mouth, letting out the same call that had drawn her here and she blinked. At that, the pup finally turned and fled back into the trees, back to its pack. The she-wolf huffed, circling the pond, before heading up the opposite bank, back to where her own pack was located.
The season passed without issue, Tall Pup’s pack had remained in the same spot, and so that was where she and her’s would stay. Food was easier to come by, though the Tall One’s scraps still kept them from truly starving. The she-wolf stalked through the undergrowth, the dusky brown hide of an elk within her sights. She got as close as she dared, before shooting out of the brush, jaws open as she stormed the herbivore. The wolf usually knew what to expect, as she had many seasons of experience of prey hunting, which is why, when the elk turned to stand its ground to her charge, she was unable to alternate her direction quickly enough to avoid getting underfoot. She yelped as hooves trampled her unforgivingly, and she scrambled to get out of range of the elk’s anger, wobbling ugainly as she retreated from the failed hunt. Panting heavily, she crashed through the forest in blind panic, scattering gravel as she practically slid down the bank and into the valley clearing she had found previously. The she-wolf collapsed heavily upon reaching the bottom, twisting round to lick her bloodied wounds. Whining, she attempted to stand, only to find she could not put weight upon her back leg, a pained yelp being wrenched from her jaws as the limb gave out from under her.
That was how Tall Pup found her three sunrises later, crippled and pacing frantically across the clearing. Tall Pup watched as the wolf reached the end of her path, halted and let out a loud howl. She stood there, unmoving, ears pricked as she listened intently, for what Tall Pup did not know, but when nothing happened, the wolf’s ears lowered and she dipped her head, whining. Limping to the other side of the clearing, she stopped and tried again, her howls reverberating over the rocks and stone that lined the valley walls.
‘Why do you not just…climb out?’ Tall Pup wondered. He was crouched, hidden behind some ferns, watching as the she-wolf howled. He felt sad for the animal, the wolf was obviously lonely, calling for her pack. The fact that there was no reply spoke louder than the desperate snarls the wolf was currently making. He had been enraptured by these creatures since he was a young child. His father, the leader of his tribe, had always claimed them to be feral and bloodthirsty- but he couldn’t agree. Tall Pup had been in the clearing when the she-wolf had appeared the previous night. Had seen how graceful and at peace the creature had been, and gotten a glimpse into those amber eyes. So full of a strange wisdom that must be a result of Víðarr’s blessing. Even after he was spooked into running back to the safety of his tribe, he knew that there was more to these creatures than any of them realised.
Peering out from cover once again, Tall Pup did not see that he was leaning too far forward until he found himself overbalancing; tumbling down the steep hill and landing, winded, in a heap at the base. He sat up quickly at the sound of the she-wolf’s startled growl, and looked up to find her standing only a few paces away, stance defensive with her head lowered and jaws open in a vicious snarl. Tall Pup swallowed, slowly getting to his knees, palms up, just as he remembered his father telling him when dealing with a defensive animal. The wolf’s gaze never left him for a moment, remaining pinned on him as he carefully stood, her snarls never ceasing.
Letting out a relieved sigh, Tall Pup also kept the wolf within his sights. He was wondering whether his would be able to reach the knife at his belt before she charged him, when he noticed something. Slowly, he lowered a hand, slipping it into the fold of his tunic and bringing out a strip of venison and holding it out.
‘Thyri’
At the strange sound, the wolf went quiet and lifted her head. Tall Pup once again held out the venison scap and repeated the same noise, ‘Thyri. That is your name. It is strong, meaning thunder. It is the sound of your growl when angered.’ Tall Pup then tossed the scrap onto the ground by her paws, which she rapidly snapped up, her narrow frame vibrating with her growls. ‘You are starving aren’t you? That is why you do not climb out. And why you growl all the time.’ Tall Pup did not look afraid, nor did he give off the sour scent of fear. Instead, he merely gave a high pitched stream of barks and rose on two legs again. She immediately bristled and snapped in his direction, but Tall Pup only waved a paw, retreating. Leaving her to her winnings.
This continued for many weeks. As Thyri healed from her wounds, Tall Pup would visit her almost everyday, he would always appear at dusk, and would always have some form of prey with him. Thyri was always cautious in the beginning, wary that Tall Pup would attempt to steal back the food he dropped for her, and would snarl and limp away with her prize every time he got too close. Gradually, she grew accustomed to his presence enough that she tolerated his yips and barks next to her while she ate. However, he had an annoying habit of trying to paw at her fur, that had her give warning nips to his legs or arms. Other times, he would sit on a boulder away from her. She always preferred it when he would chase her or let her chase him, since never knew what the purpose of sitting was. Was he keeping watch? Thyri knew that her senses were far superior and she would always be the one that would sense danger first. Her teeth and claws were much better defence than his blunt, soft paws, and limbs that easily bled if bitten. She had learnt that the hard way, when one of her nips had punctured the skin on his thigh. The heavy scent of blood had surprised her, the pups in her pack had not been as soft as he was. Nevertheless, she had not bitten him again, instead giving short barks if Tall Pup misbehaved.
It was nearing dusk again. The season was also changing, she could feel it in the chill of the breeze. Soon, the prey animals would hide underground, away from the white water. She never liked the white water, the drops would always get in her ears and freeze her nose. Thyri whined to herself, watching the small fish swimming in the shallows of the pond, soaking up the last of the sun’s heat. It felt lonely whenever Tall Pup wasn’t here to keep her company, and she had all but forgotten her pack. They must have certainly moved on when she disappeared for so long, especially now the cold had arrived.
‘Thyri!’ Perking up at the familiar call, Thyri got to her feet as Tall Pup came scrambling down the hill, giving a pleased growl when he carried the scent of hare with him. Trotting over to him, she stopped a few paces away and lowered her head, waiting expectantly. As soon as she did so, Tall Pup began chattering and making his noises.
‘Oh no Thyri, not this time. You are going to have to come and take this from me.’ Tall Pup then reached into his furs and drew out a large strip of meat. Thryi swiped a tongue over her jaws. After a moment of nothing happening, Thyri whined and snapped lightly in Tall Pup’s direction. This only caused him to pull the meat further away, ‘Come on Thyri, you can do it. You have to be brave!’
Taking a hesitant step forward, Thyri let out a growl and pawed at the sandy ground. Tall Pup merely waved the meat scrap in her direction, coaxing her to come closer. Gradually, step by step, did she move closer, pausing to scent the air as if to check the meat was still there. Finally, Thyri was close enough that Tall Pup was able to feed her the scrap out of his hand.
‘You did it Thyri,’ he murmured softly as she gently plucked the food from his fingers, ‘You are a brave, strong wolf.’ Slowly, he lifted his hand, palm facing her, stopping just an inch away from her muzzle. He held his breath as he waited, eyes screwed shut. Just as he thought nothing would come of it, did he feel the wet brush of Thyri’s nose on his palm. Letting out a shaky breath, Tall Pup opened his eyes to find the wolf watching him. Her amber eyes were calm, unafraid. Those were trusting eyes.
‘Good girl Thyri’, he whispered, gently stroking the coarse fur on her snout, ‘You have been brave. We are a new pack now my friend. I will care for you now.’ Thyri blinked slowly, before leaning further into his touch, as if in agreement.