The Grey Wolf

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Once upon a time a child with strange eyes was born. These eyes held within them a sage-like curiosity that hid just underneath a predatory gaze that challenged everything they saw. The child grew up amongst trolls and fairies, feeling right at home amongst the creatures of the forest. Now, an ordinary human might have gotten lost in the vast forest but not this child. See, the child was part raven, part wolf and part man. The young man wandered through the forest for many years, alone and without company save the stars and the silver-moon that loved him.

The soul of this wildling wolf-child was in many ways much like the forest. He knew certain areas very well, familiar trees like aspects of his personality. But the deeper he delved, the more he wanted to know, the harder it became to see the forest for the trees. As the years passed others began to appear in the vast forest. For a time he would follow them and watch them as they wandered down the beaten paths, a quiet observer in the shadows of the underbrush.

His father was a raven that would often sit and quietly observe the events that were unfolding in the forest. It was a creature of intelligence keeping a stern vigil. His mother was a tender she-wolf that doted on her pack. Yet he himself had been born with more of the Old Blood. Trolls eyed him with caution but engaged in conversation if the situation called for such things. The fairies and their elven cousins often danced around him, seductive schemes sung on sweet voices. For the longest time the sun was but a fabled thing creatures whispered about in the mists upon the meadows. He rarely strayed that close to the border and when he did he never left the groves.

The wolf-man met a strange creature for which he had no name. She spoke of things he had not thought of before, showed him passion but nothing more. Autumn passed and rusty tears like leaves began to cover the forest floor. She had taught him how to cry and for that he was grateful in spite of how hurtful they had been to each other.

As winter came it brought with it elven kisses and sweet promises. Slowly the door to his heart opened, albeit but a fraction. They kept each other warm as the winter passed and the forest dwellers began to whisper of the sun and whispers were all they heard for very long. Darkness held and they went their separate ways as the snow began to thaw. Even in the North the sun eventually rises. But it was not the sun that brought light into the young wolf-man’s forest.

A human wandered down one of his secret paths, how she had found it he did not know but he didn’t mind sharing. She was the daughter of a star. Star-child spoke to the wolf about many things and the young wolf listened as his eyes glistened with curiosity. It was a curiosity akin to the first green of spring after the longest of winters.

The wolf still wanders on paths only he knows. Seeking solitude as has always been his way, but in the young wolf now grows something more. In him grows a desire to change what came before. He knows the past is set in stone so he tends to the green moss that now covers it. His name is Grey Wolf, grey like the stone out of which he was carved. Gravel-heart in steady rhythm beats, a drum to which he marches towards hope.

A Wolf can dream, can he not?

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About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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3 Responses to The Grey Wolf

  1. Fredrik Kayser says:

    Thank you ~ :)

  2. That’s so awesome Fredrik…beautifully written! :-)

  3. Wonderful story. And in many ways, you are the grey wolf, brother. :)

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