The big bad wolf

It is the end of November and the darkest time of the year in the Northern part of Sweden. The snow has fallen, and the trees are dressed in their white coats for the long winter. People are getting ready to celebrate Christmas and the village is alight with a pageant of pretty lights. There is a scent of gingerbread and mulled wine in the air, where people gather at the market to buy those little trinkets that end up as a gift under the tree. Towns people have been busy handcrafting wooden toys, knitting jumpers and hats, making candles and delicious jams from the berries of the forest. Boots are made from grey fur with colourful ribbons stitched on at the sides. It is a happy time and Lisa strolls around the market with her basket to find the goodies to take to her grandmother who lives in the little cottage in the forest. Everybody knows Lisa and greets her with friendly smiles and advice of what to buy and the usual “how is your grandmother going?”.

There is smoke rising from the chimney in the little cottage where Lisa’s grandmother has been living for over twenty years. She sits in the rocking chair by the fireplace, content and dozing in the soft candlelight. It is warm and cosy, she snores lightly and is totally unaware of the figure outside the window looking in. He watches the rabbits hanging over the stove and licks his lips, he is hungry. It is winter.

It is the middle of the hunting season and Old Wolf has managed to escape the hunters who constantly patrol these woods. He must lay low now, the months between August to February are the hardest time to find food. His sense of smell takes him down to the creek where beavers and badgers reside, and he can usually get a good feed there but knows he must be careful. He has already marked this territory with urine and droppings, but he is alone, there are no other wolfs left here to warn him of danger. He is the only survivor in the litter of ten who were all killed by the hunters. He managed to escape and ran deep into the woods where he found a burrow where he could live undetected. The sounds of the shotguns were loud, and he remembered the howling of his brothers and sisters. He was scared and knew he was now alone. This was many years ago and Old Wolf had become wise and learned the survival skills that kept him alive here in the middle of nowhere. But there was one person who knew he lived here alone in the forest. The old lady in the cottage near the clearing.

Alex walked slowly through the snow looking for tracks on the ground and held his rifle with a steady hand. He was one of the hunters from all those years ago who liked to kill and make the thunder roll across the valley. He would never give up. A good wolf was a dead wolf…

Hunger makes a wolf tired, and he needs to preserve his energies for hunting. Now, as he watches the rabbits hanging over the stove, he suddenly feels better, and his mood is quickly lifting. The white, grey, and black fur shines in the sunlight and shows no sign of him being ten years old. His chin is as white as the snow beneath him. Oh, how he wants those rabbits, but he knows he must be careful as the old lady in there would have a gun hanging up somewhere on the wall.

Lisa is wearing the bright red cap that Grandma knitted for her. You can see it from a long distance as she walks with her basket amongst the great pines through the forest. She sings to herself and is excited as Christmas is only around the corner and she will soon dress the tree. Grandmother will be so happy for all the goodies she has brought and for the tasty gingerbreads her mother has baked. She has been told so many times to look out for wolfs but she knows there are no wolfs around anymore and feels quite safe although the shadows in the forest are becoming longer with the approaching evening and the tree branches are beginning to look as though they are coming alive. Soon the night will dress them in moonlight. She hurries her steps, nighttime in the woods is not a good place to be.

Old Wolf can see the little girl coming in the distance and hides behind the corner of the house.

“Lisa, how lovely to see you. I don’t like you walking through the forest all alone. I am sure there are wolfs still around and they love little girls.”

Lisa wipes the snow off her feet and steps inside. She sits beside her grandmother by the fire showing her the goodies from the basket. They laugh and talk until late, and the darkness settles in. He watches them through the window as they prepare for bed. The fire looks cozy and warm, and the rabbits are still hanging there over the stove. His yellow eyes focus patiently but he will wait until they have gone to sleep before he goes inside and takes them. He shivers, it is getting very cold out here.

Alex is almost ready to turn back now, but something tells him to go on towards the old lady’s cottage. He keeps the torch shining on the white snow and sees tracks from hares and birds and eventually comes across Lisa’s footsteps. He knows they will lead him to the cottage and stops to have a rest in the clearing adjacent to the house.

The wolf must have dozed off in front of the window and wakes to the smell of fire and the loud sound of burning, cracking wood. The cottage is on fire, and he can hear the girl screaming inside. He rushes to the door and throws his full body weight against it until it breaks open. The smoke fills his nose and almost suffocates him, and the heat is overwhelming, but he manages to run towards the bed were Lisa lays lifeless. He grabs the arm of her dressing gown with his teeth. There is smoke and fire everywhere and every sense in his body tells him to run from this nightmare. He is scared. There is a loud bang from the window as it shatters into pieces, he drags her off the bed and pulls her across the floor and out onto the snow, dragging her away from the burning cottage and is surprised at how light she feels. He sees she is breathing; her chest rising slowly beneath the dressing gown and knows she is alive. He leans over her, panting from fear and exhaustion as she opens her eyes. He is so close now that she can feel his breath on her face, and he stares into her big blue eyes. She starts to tremble and bursts out crying.

“Wolf,” she whispers. “Wolf.”

He looks at her, he can smell her flesh and he could tear her apart in one go if he wanted to, but he remains still. Their eyes meet, locked together and he sees the fear and desperation in her. For a moment it seems like time has stopped. The snow falls softly in the moonlight and he watches the flakes as they melt on her face and the reflection of the golden fire from the burning cottage in her eyes. He wants to lick the fear from her cheeks.

“Grandma!”

She screams.

“Grandma!”

Alex sees the flames in the distance and runs towards the cottage. But it is too late. Grandma is gone and soon the cottage will also be gone and there will be no trace of this night in the forest, only a black cloud over the white snow. Alex watches the scene; the wolf and the little girl laying in the snow and secures his rifle ready to shoot.

Hunger and tiredness come over the wolf as he lays down beside her shivering body to warm her. She trembles from the cold and no longer from the fear of the animal next to her. They lay together for what seems like a long time, girl and wolf in the darkness seeking comfort and warmth as she cries softly to the stars. She pulls the dressing gown tightly around her body and moves closer to his warm fur. He turns his head towards her and looks at her steadily and his eyes glow yellow in the moonlight.

“You are not a bad wolf.” she whispers.

“You are just like me, alone.”

Alex can see him in the rifle sights and holds his finger tightly on the trigger. He does not want to hurt the girl and continues to stare at the wolf mesmerized by this strange scene. He holds his breath. This is the moment he has been waiting for, for so long and yet something tells him not to do it. He cannot pull the trigger. The little girl is staring up at the sky, oblivious to his presence.

“Grandma,” she murmurs. “Grandma’”

He knows the smell of the hunter and knows he is not alone. He has smelled it many times before, the smell of death. The girl is safe now and he must leave. His muscles are tensed, he is ready to run. He looks at the girl quickly and then he rises slowly and disappears into the shadows of the moon, the night, and the forgiving darkness.