The Wolf and the Huntsman

Raulin’s eyes watered from an eternity of peering along the arrow’s shaft and into the Huntsman’s gaze that was locked at its base. Every blink felt like inviting death. The icy cold of a mid-winter evening dried his lenses during the long periods between the meeting of his eyelids. It would take only the slightest lapse in his attention for the savage human to grasp an opportunity to release the deadly dart. At this range, it would easily pierce a pelt as worn and grey as his. He may be a wolf of advanced years, but he had no wish to depart the world just yet. He adamantly denied the hunter any such chance. Instead, they both stood only a few spaces apart, locked into a stalemate and staring each other down. Raulin could feel the tremble of fear and cold in his core, but stood firm and held onto his composure, as he understood even the slightest movement would bring about a mutual demise. The arrow’s flight would allow Raulin valuable seconds to clamp his jaws around the Huntsman’s neck before succumbing to his own death. Likewise, any sign that he planned to act first, would force the man to release his bowstring in response. They were, both of them, guaranteed a bloody end by the others hand should either of them make a rash decision.

Fading light, dappled through the bare trees of the winter woodland glinted off the sharp arrow tip. Birds sung on as if the understory were empty. A gentle wind battered loose branches against one another and the smell of wet leaves carried on its breath. Raulin’s wolf ears pivoted to capture every sound and his nostrils flared to pick up invading scents. He did not need his eyes to know they were completely alone, no one was coming to rescue either of them from the predicament they found themselves in. It had been stupidity on both their parts to end up this way. Raulin condemned his own curiosity, he should have simply fled from the smell of man, but the added scent of the hunters quarry being butchered was too enticing to ignore. The winter had been harsh, food scarce. The promise of perfectly fine offal decimated his resolve. An easily found meal, cast off as wastage by foolish men who knew little of balance could not be denied. On the Huntsman’s part, spreading the hot stench of blood through this wild domain should have made him more alert to those he would attract. It was a cubs act to not retreat with a kill to a more secure location. Raulin could not deny though, falling from the shallow ridge above to land almost atop the working man was his own mistake. The growing sweet smell promising a full belly had made him careless. The snow hiding the ledge combined with his aged limbs had led to a panicked, scrambling fall. It was only a shame the man had been so quick to react, taking up his weapon quickly in the short time it had taken Raulin to recover from thudding down into a snow drift, mere feet from the hunter.

The man’s strength was fading as time wore on, his arms were beginning to tremble under the strain of the drawn weapon. The worst outcome would be if the creature released his arrow by accident. Should his muscles betray him, there would be little body language or warning for Raulin to react to. A slightly slower reaction from the wolf could mean he would expire before taking the Huntsman with him. That would be a true tragedy. The man was strong, his bald muscles bulged under the tight fabric of his false coat. But the strain was showing nonetheless. Raulin had to do something and soon.

“I come only seeking a meal,” Raulin began, choosing negotiation, “I mean you no harm”

The Huntsman’s eyes widened in shock for only a moment before he gathered his composure. Inexperience in his craft shone from his actions but to underestimate the strength of this man would be foolish. He clearly had a high level of discipline over his body.

“You speak…as did the old ones in so many children’s tales! Are you demon or cryptid? Or perhaps you are an enchantment or familiar?”

“Simply old.” Raulin responded, intentionally keeping a calmness to his tone and attempting to show fewer teeth in his annunciation. 

“Whatever manner of beast you might be, I should be a victim to lunacy to accept your word alone on your intentions. Wolves are too cunning for honour. This is too well known for me to succumb to your tricks.”

The Huntsman nodded to himself as if confirming his own prejudice. How certain these creatures were of their own truth and how deluded in their manufactured beliefs. He would be difficult to sway.

“Know much of wolves do you? Privy to my mind from these bare few moments and words? Perhaps it is you who is the magical creature?” He could not help but taunt the man for his ignorance.

“I am learned enough I know the acts of your kind! Snatching stray children, robbing livestock and threatening every woodland border! You are dangerous vermin and I should simply exterminate you now to the benefit of all!”

He re-centred his bow and set his stance in renewed determination. At least that should hold his weakening arms a little longer. Fearing his own response to such an insult, Raulin allowed silence to stretch between them once again.

He resisted the urge to shake out his coat. The debris and melted snow that was caught in his fur was irritating him to madness. He longed to remove it with a flick of his pelt and to cleanse all that was left with his tongue. It was but another drive to end this confrontation sooner rather than later. The low rumble of a growl bled from his lips before he could stop it, the culmination of his growing discomfort and annoyance at the Huntsman’s words.

“Have you ever witnessed this behaviour from one of my kind?” He barked suddenly.

“My aunt kept chickens,” he said, puffing out his chest in premeditated victory, “she awoke one morning to them gone, only feathers and blood remained. Knowing well the local wolves prowled closer at night, it can only prove the selfish ferocity of your kind! Not a one did they leave for her and she near starved for the loss!”

“…So no. You have never witnessed a wolf commit the deeds you blame me for. Only assumed their involvement from the stories of others.” Raulin said, holding on tightly to his control. “You simply believe without question that I am your enemy, come here with the only intent to murder and pillage. With no basis whatsoever to accuse me of such.”

“Why else would you pounce from above? Where you hid unseen for a moment to strike?”

“I was hungry and careless,” Raulin admitted. He knew the only way out of this with his life was to convince the cretin that he would not kill him. Despite his willingness to do so if necessary. Then hope that he would have enough integrity to repay the favour, “I did not even come for your kill. Only the meat you discard. I did not know you would still be here and I fell, I did not attack. Do you draw a bow upon every being that has an accident in your presence?”

Raulin huffed air through his nose in exasperation, “Despite the reasons, we find ourselves at an impasse with teeth to each others throats, I would prefer to leave here with my life, as I am sure given the choice you would as well.”

“How can I possibly trust that if I lower my bow you would not immediately set upon me?”

“How can I know that you would not unsheathe the short blade at your waist and end me as I did so?” Raulin countered “It comes down to trusting neither of us would do something as foolish as doom ourselves. I am not the unthinking animal you perceive Huntsman.”

“So it would seem...” He said, wavering, as a semblance of critical thinking passed through his thoughtful expression.

The dimness of night began to overtake the pastels of the evening sky. Raulin knew the humans weak senses would be faltering in the lower light.

“Night falls,” he observed, “believe me when I say, neither of us will want to be exposed like this when true darkness comes to a Hazelmere wood. You must choose Huntsman. I have no weapon to lower, only my word that should you divert your arrow, I will stand down.”

“A choice between assured death and the word of a wolf,” he shook his head in defeat, “how did it come to this…”

“My word is worth more than you perceive, young one.”

With a pinch of his lips and on quivering arms, the huntsman lowered his bow, releasing the tension in the drawstring with a relieved sigh but notably, not un-nocking the arrow. He stood in place and eyed Raulin. The temptation to attack could not be denied. Raulin considered it the safer option, to be rid of this danger completely, but he had meant what he said. His word was worth something to him. Instead he dropped back onto his haunches and began to scratch avidly at the cached dirt on his side.

The pair remained in place. The immediate danger had passed but Raulin was under no illusion that he could turn his back on this Huntsman. His bow was still in hand, even if it was lowered.

“You truly came only for my discard?” He asked.

“Yes. The snows have been long on the region and game has become hard to find. It would not be worth the energy or risk of injury to fight you for more. You leave enough behind of your own accord.” Raulin explained, as if to a barely weaned pup. These were things that should not require voice. It was as if man had lost all understanding of the basic laws governing all creatures.

“You are welcome to it,” the Huntsman offered, “it lies just there in the snow.”

“You are a soldier.” The wolf stated suddenly, with no question in the statement.

The Huntsman cocked his head at Raulin, as if finally realising he conversed with an intelligent creature and asked, “How could you know this fact?”

“You maintain your guard and test me with the offer of that which I desire. Knowing it would allow you the power the strike without repercussion. Your stance is as hard as your body and you do not give me even the slightest opening. You show yourself a warrior, but a poor hunter. Had you the skill you would not need to face this situation at all.”

“You see much, old one,” he said, showing a startling respect in his use of the title, whether he knew of it or not, “I flee a battle my people cannot win, hoping the land will provide for me until I can cross the border. Our enemies press ever further in land and I refuse to die for a lost cause.”

“Hmm,” Raulin considered, “Your enemies push into your lands, so you push into mine, while I must push further into the growing realm of men simply for food to sustain me. I have no doubt those enemies of yours are likewise fleeing the advance of their own pursuers. Do we live a never ending circle of movement away from one another? Would it not be wiser to simply remain where we all are?”

“Haha!” The Huntsman bellowed a quick laugh, “That it would wolf. That it would. If only such a notion could curb the ambitions of kings.”

Taking advantage of the human’s change in demeanour, Raulin took a chance. He began trotting over to the pile of freezing remains that would be his meal, not ignoring the snap to a fighting stance displayed by his adversary in the corner of his sight.

“Darkness draws ever closer and I tire of this tension Huntsman. I am hungry and too old to waste any more time fearing you. Fire your weapon if you must, simply know that I will live long enough to rip out your throat if you do.” With the words spoken, he lowered his muzzle and began to feast as he had not done in many weeks. When no pain spiked into his back and the soft crunch of boots on snow echoed behind him, he assumed the Huntsman had also relented and moved off.

“I must continue my work on the doe before we lose the light. I cannot afford to lose the carcass if I am to make my journey. Know also wolf, that my blade remains ready despite my distraction.” He confirmed.

“Understood Huntsman.” Raulin muffled between bites.

“My name is Erik”

“Raulin.”

A wary silence pervaded as Raulin satiated himself, looking up intermittently to eye Erik as he worked. He did not miss the stray glances that were shot his way, just as often. The smell of blood and meat overwhelmed all else and so when an echoing howl that took the edge of a scream sounded through the trees, the wolf was taken just as much by surprise as Erik. Raulin swallowed his last mouthful while swivelling his ears and staring into the growing darkness, attempting to locate the source of the call. The huntsman did the same, red stained knife in hand, he turned his head this way and that, the fear clear in his stance. His release of the doe carcass allowed it to spin where it hung from the branch of a tree. As it turned, it revealed clean hide that had previously been hidden from view. Raulin whined in shock and fear.

“You have killed a white doe!?” He yammered.

“Yes…now you see my desire to process the animal before nightfall. The hide will fetch a handsome price and provide for my new start. Did you not hear that sound…?”

“You are a marrow headed fool!” Raulin yipped, his legs trembling of their own accord, “One does not hunt the white doe of a Hazelmere wood! They are all that holds back the wrath of the Witiko…”

The wailing call permeated the woodland again, the trees scattered its direction and yet it was noticeably louder. Closer.

“Have you eaten from it? AS YOU HAVE BID ME DO!?”

“Of course I have…what is this? What do you fear wolf?” Erik asked, bemused and ignorant of the danger. Raulin’s nostrils flared, his blood covered maw open and panting in anticipation of what he scented on the breeze.

“It comes.” He said.

Out of the darkness stepped the shape of a man, only twice as tall as Erik and rippling with muscle. The short sheen of fur that covered its body was reminiscent of the doe’s, but coloured a deep black. Its hands ended in human fingers, but hardened and sharp at the ends, like the claws of a wolverine. Its head was bereft of skin, showing only the bare bone of its skull from which grew giant stag antlers. Its eyes and tongue roved in their hollow sockets until they locked on to both Raulin and Erik.

“Ready your bow Huntsman!” Raulin roared, “Do not think to outrun it here in the woodland, we must fight together or die!”

As the wolf launched himself into a sprint at the fearsome creature, knowing that only assault would save them despite his terror, he was glad that the Huntsman’s military training took hold. As he passed him at speed, he saw Erik pick up his bow and draw it, arrow nocked.

“HOLD STEADY!” Raulin barked, “Aim for the throat and release when I open the way!”

He darted between the legs of the monster, distracting its attention for a moment before it once more targeting the stationary man he had left beside the gutted white doe. He ran out into the darkness and before circling, considered for a moment escape. He could leverage Erik as a distraction and put some distance between him and the demon. It was not just knowing that it could track him through his digestion of the doe’s meat that turned him back, it was the idea that doing so would prove all of the Huntsman’s prejudices correct. Instead he dashed forward at full speed and lunged at the heel of the Witik, feeling the snap of its tendons between his clamped teeth. A moment later a swipe of the bow string and the garbled howl of the creature told him that the Huntsman had fired true. He hopped out of range as the creature collapsed backwards, writhing and grasping at its neck before it stilled. Raulin knew a moments relief that he had not met the same end at Erik’s hand earlier that evening.

“What form of hell spawn was that!?” Erik panted.

“One of the Witiko,” Raulin explained, lying in the snow to lick at his stained coat “You killed the only thing that protected this woodland from their emergence! Now that we have both consumed its flesh, they will hunt us as if we were the white doe itself! Like it or not Huntsman, we are now bonded in a mutual need for survival…once again.”

“There are more of them…?”

“Many, many more. We need to move from here, make our way to the edges of the woodland, only once beyond the trees will we have any hope of safety. Can you trust me to lead us there?” Raulin asked, holding out the offer of friendship.

“For the second time tonight, I have little other choice but to trust a wolf” The man relented.

“That will have to do.” Raulin said, standing and roving out into the night.