Wolves and Boulders

[AKA Azure]

This is the tidied up version of a story recently told in the Dundee Inn to answer the question of boulders being jealous. Special thanks to Daisy's player who saved my carelessly tossed words.





Some of you have heard of the existence of tales written upon an aged scroll; tales of the folks who live so far away that they have no concept of the gods and believe spirits to be present in all things. This is a story that might be told by people such as these, when one might ask some time why wolves cry at night... or why other things, like boulders, shift and move. This tale may answer those questions.


Wolf Father was out one day and spied what he thought was a beautiful grey wolf curled up against the cold on a distant hill. He watched the sleeping she wolf for some time, yearning to be closer to her. It took him time, but finally he decided to set out and meet the distant, sleeping wolf, and wake her to the sight of fresh-killed game. However, what Wolf Father didn't know was that the Mountain spirit had long ago seen the she wolf and fallen in love with her himself. And the Mountain spirit was wise, crafty and cold.

Wolf Father traveled, oh how he traveled! Through storm and wind, hail and rain, he trekked. Even through a mudslide or two. Of course after such adventures he groomed himself immediately, not wanting to put off the she wolf by looking disheveled, or by looking as if he nibbled his fur into shape like a common hound.

Little did Wolf Father realize though that through his arduous journey, Mountain spirit had been working his own magic; causing the she wolf to turn slowly to stone. It wasn't complete, but the Mountain spirit did not worry. He had time on his side and knew that he would win in the end. Despite this confidence, Father Wolf grew ever nearer and finally was but a day's travel away. He stopped to kill some fine fat squirrels and take them as a gift to the one for whom he had begun his journey. But when he got there, he found her sleeping deeply. And she would not wake. She was as almost as cold as the stones themselves.

He whined and nosed the squirrels over to the sleeping, cold, grey she wolf. He tilted his head to the skies and howled out the troubles of his journey until the boulders themselves rang with the sound. But it was to no avail, the she wolf slumbered on. Or so he thought. Deep within her stony slumber, the she wolf heard and strained to wake. She had not asked the Mountain spirit to do what he had done and in fact, she hadn't even realized that he lived there until it was too late. Her efforts were in vain, for the Mountain spirit was crafty and smart. He hid the slow cold workings of patience within him and he proposed a bargain to the she wolf.

"Three days," he said in his cold grey voice. "If he stays that long waiting for you, you may join him. If not...you stay with me."

The foolish she wolf agreed. Had she known that all she had to do was stand and release herself, then this story would end right now, but she thought that all this must come from without her. In despair she agreed to the bargain, never seeking to see if she contained the ability to be free within herself. She did not comprehend that those who seek to hold us must have, to some extent, our agreement. The aged Mountain spirit knew this, even if the she wolf did not.

As the first day passed, Father Wolf paced about, whining and nosing the stone. He knew that it contained one he could work with and hunt beside. "Wake," he sang out, but the she wolf - trapped in her foolish bargain - did not even attempt it. He curled up next to her that night sharing his warmth with her, but she was stone, and not the living being and partner he wished for. The second day passed in much the same way and finally, the wolf turned away.

"I sought you out, I traveled here and would share my life with you," he snarled. "And you do nothing! I sought one who would be secure in herself and able to run and hunt beside me, not one who needed help in all things."

With those words, Father Wolf left to seek another of more equal standing, just as the Mountain spirit knew he would. Too late the she wolf learned of her foolishness, and to this day there are boulders who look longingly at those who move freely about. Sometimes... just sometimes... they manage to throw themselves off the sides of the hill and attain, for one brief second, that which the foolish she wolf lost. There are nights in which the wolf descendants of Father Wolf remember the story he passed down through their generations, and howl out to their almost cousins, the still grey stones.

Sometimes, if listening carefully, one might hear the stones answer.

[Sephoroth]

Very nice story. Wow, just, wow. lol.

[Synvasti Shymere]

Awesome story. Two thumbs up!

[x.sweetnsour.x]

Sorry I had to leave in the middle of it. It's a great story, though!

[Aierwen Fae]

that was an incredible story!!!! i loved it. keep up the good work Az

[asrai]

Great story Azure!!