Long ago, in a dense, delicate forest, a thick population of flora and fauna resided alongside humans. Each looked after one another and kept one another in check, taking an eye for an eye when fairly ruled. There was harmony and understanding between the two landscapes of human invention and bonafide nature. Neither started wars nor showed unfavorable intentions.
In the forest dwelled a wolf, who may have been regarded as a prominent animal in the forest, but he was weak and unruly. He bared no scars from battle or princely characteristics, but being a wolf was enough to stun any human or creature. The wolf was careless, hardened in spirit, and world-weary. His days were spent milling about in the forest, scaring the small rodents and napping under the warm sun. Night was when he was most happy, howling at the moon, listening for any other wolves in his vicinity, only to feel defeated as the sun rose once again.
On one cold night, when the stars winked playfully in the sky, he felt the rush of wind along his coat and a long, low whisper. For once in a long while, he smiled and gave chase to where the tumult had risen. Leaping over logs in a low-lying valley, he crossed a small pond and found a towering willow, it’s body curved in an elegant fashion, it’s branches reaching up to the heavens and out towards the wolf. His heart raced, whether from his pursuit or of his presence he could not be sure. Another powerful wind swept the leaves of the willow, carrying soft sweet scents and whispers to the wolf. “Come closer, under my branches, let me behold you,” spoke the willow, with a mature yet youthful tone. The withered wolf stepped forward, his head low and senses heightened. Once underneath the branches of the tree, another echo of whispers came forth from it,”My my, you are a dashing man, are you not? Rest, weary one, and traverse another day, lest you be weak and sick.”
To the kind offer, the wolf called,”Dear willow, I am no man. Dost thou eyes deceive thee? I am a wolf, brave of blood and steadfast in chase. Have you to insult myself in one breath and offer repose in another?”
Childish laughter rose from the willow along with a sigh,”Oh, but you misunderstand me, foolish one, for it is you who cannot see. I have resided her for many moons and have yet to unveil all the secrets of this realm. Willst thou delight me in chatter of what lies beyond my dear pond?”
“A curious offer, I might add. For all my life I understood willows to have such vast knowledge and power, yet you ask a lowly creature such as myself for guidance? If I am no wolf, are you truly a willow?”
“Such questions and answers will take time, dear friend. However, I shall let you know that I will keep all that we speak of to I and I alone. And, if you would please, address me as a lady.”
So for many nights, the wolf came back to the tree, crossing the bogs and marsh plains from his cave in the forest. They spent nights wistfully discussing the stars, moon, forest, and spiritual aspects of their thoughts. She was inquisitive and understanding, while he countered her personality and later complemented it. Both grasped only part of the world, but through the nights they began to understand each other’s realms and ways of thought.
The willow had forever been placed in one spot, save for her recollection of being a seed on the wind, gliding over the forest. She held this memory close to her heart, and thought on it in times of distress or anguish. For being in one place for all her life, she had time to think and ponder her life and surroundings. Every blade of grass she knew from it’s sound in the wind, and her mind was peaceful and distinguished.
The wolf, being a hunter and solemn keeper of the forest, took very little time to stop and was oblivious to smaller, minute details of his forest dwelling. For that, he missed out on some aspects of life, but he tended to find the practicality in anything he did. Every task held a purpose, though he often found himself forgetting what it was he had to accomplish. A hint of arrogance ran about him, but his small wrongdoings kept him in his place.
Conversations between the wolf and the willow were unique to them, with the willow asking comically childish questions like,”What makes the grass grow?” to “Who built the mountains?”. The wolf, who would normally never stand for such tomfoolery, answered all her questions as kindly and plainly as possible. With each answer the willow drew great happiness, which humored the wolf, prompting him to answer more. However, the wolf would often question her as well, asking about the star movements and the deeper meaning behind life. It astounded him how little she knew of the realities of the world, yet understood the intangible meanings and overlying lessons. Both grew a fondness for one another, and each day they spent was agonizing, till the sun fell and both were reunited.
One night, when the wolf trotted over a fallen log to cross the marshy terrain towards his companion, he found the willow’s trunk had been hacked by some human tool. Her branches drooped farther than normal, and he could hear her shortened breaths on the wind. Racing to see what had happened, he called to her and felt along the scars while she spoke between pained cries. “A man came to me, wielding an ax. He attempted to bring me down, though his blade grew dull. I have stood here for many years, yet he believes he can destroy me in one fell swoop? I am stronger than that,” she mumbled, as the wolf howled in anguish. “My lady, I beg of thee, let me stay by your side till the morrow, and I will make swift work of this man.” The willow reluctantly agreed, warning,” my dearest friend, in my lifetime I have yet to see the sorrow of watching my partner die before me. Do not let it be today.” Both were near bursting with despair, as they lingered on the possibility of losing one another.
Just before sunrise, both were near napping until the wolf sensed a man approaching. Quick wit told him to hide as to not be spotted, and to launch an unexpected attack on the crafty human. With one final goodbye to the willow, she watched him slink into the cattails, her heart feeling crushed. The man appeared jovial and gay, toting a large sack full of tools on one arm and carrying an axe in his hand. Sneering, the wolf watched with a newfound patience as the man examined the tree he had begun tormenting the day before. “Eh? What’s dis?” he grumbled, peering through the scars to realize the tree was slowly rotting from inside. “Baaah, didn’t need it anyway. Ah well, might as well torch it, it’s dead anyway..,” he shrugged and shook his head, then began whistling while rummaging through his bag. The wolf stepped closer, but held his ground to wait and see what the man was doing. From his bag emerged two small, shimmering objects. He nodded and turned towards the tree, flicked them on each other, and created a spark of light which caught onto the willow’s spliced bark. She screamed in agony, and the wolf took no time in leaping out to attack the man. His howl roared alongside her shouts and the man’s shrieks into a symphony of chaos.
The man fumbled on the ground while the wolf snapped at his legs, trying to disable the man who sought to destroy his love. The wind flung through the willow’s flames, spreading them faster as the wolf made attempts at tearing parts of the man’s arm. His hand dug into his bag in a panic, and pulled out a large metal and wood rod, while he began stuffing something inside it as the wolf tore his clothes. One hard kick knocked the wolf back, and just as he was about to lunge again, a loud snap rang over the panicked individuals, and the wolf crumpled to the earth near the tree. Her shouts spread farther and louder than before, but the man was oblivious and shook off some dirt and wiped blood from his leg. He stood and hobbled away through the thicket, leaving the carnage behind him.
From the ground, the wolf lay in pain, gazing up at the willow, who he could tell was losing strength, as her howls were fading. He tried sitting up some, then slumped back down from the searing pain in his side, proceeding to shout as loud as he could over the crackling flames,” My love! It seems death has come for us both! My love, please forgive me for my ignorance and arrogance, but please find peace in your end.” The willow, gasping through the choking smog, spoke to him,” Sweet wolf, you will not ever leave my side, even as we pass to all other realms, I am here!”
“My lady, I will never forget you, and I swear it my duty to find you again, whoever or wherever I may be! For my passion for your presence burns as a fire. Find rest in your demise, sweet willow maid.”
The wolf howled as the sun began to rise over the mountains, and he collapsed beside the burning willow. Fire consumed the entire tree now, leaving charred bark and falling branches. From the flames, her red leaves flew up over the forest and danced on the wind.
In the forest dwelled a wolf, who may have been regarded as a prominent animal in the forest, but he was weak and unruly. He bared no scars from battle or princely characteristics, but being a wolf was enough to stun any human or creature. The wolf was careless, hardened in spirit, and world-weary. His days were spent milling about in the forest, scaring the small rodents and napping under the warm sun. Night was when he was most happy, howling at the moon, listening for any other wolves in his vicinity, only to feel defeated as the sun rose once again.
On one cold night, when the stars winked playfully in the sky, he felt the rush of wind along his coat and a long, low whisper. For once in a long while, he smiled and gave chase to where the tumult had risen. Leaping over logs in a low-lying valley, he crossed a small pond and found a towering willow, it’s body curved in an elegant fashion, it’s branches reaching up to the heavens and out towards the wolf. His heart raced, whether from his pursuit or of his presence he could not be sure. Another powerful wind swept the leaves of the willow, carrying soft sweet scents and whispers to the wolf. “Come closer, under my branches, let me behold you,” spoke the willow, with a mature yet youthful tone. The withered wolf stepped forward, his head low and senses heightened. Once underneath the branches of the tree, another echo of whispers came forth from it,”My my, you are a dashing man, are you not? Rest, weary one, and traverse another day, lest you be weak and sick.”
To the kind offer, the wolf called,”Dear willow, I am no man. Dost thou eyes deceive thee? I am a wolf, brave of blood and steadfast in chase. Have you to insult myself in one breath and offer repose in another?”
Childish laughter rose from the willow along with a sigh,”Oh, but you misunderstand me, foolish one, for it is you who cannot see. I have resided her for many moons and have yet to unveil all the secrets of this realm. Willst thou delight me in chatter of what lies beyond my dear pond?”
“A curious offer, I might add. For all my life I understood willows to have such vast knowledge and power, yet you ask a lowly creature such as myself for guidance? If I am no wolf, are you truly a willow?”
“Such questions and answers will take time, dear friend. However, I shall let you know that I will keep all that we speak of to I and I alone. And, if you would please, address me as a lady.”
So for many nights, the wolf came back to the tree, crossing the bogs and marsh plains from his cave in the forest. They spent nights wistfully discussing the stars, moon, forest, and spiritual aspects of their thoughts. She was inquisitive and understanding, while he countered her personality and later complemented it. Both grasped only part of the world, but through the nights they began to understand each other’s realms and ways of thought.
The willow had forever been placed in one spot, save for her recollection of being a seed on the wind, gliding over the forest. She held this memory close to her heart, and thought on it in times of distress or anguish. For being in one place for all her life, she had time to think and ponder her life and surroundings. Every blade of grass she knew from it’s sound in the wind, and her mind was peaceful and distinguished.
The wolf, being a hunter and solemn keeper of the forest, took very little time to stop and was oblivious to smaller, minute details of his forest dwelling. For that, he missed out on some aspects of life, but he tended to find the practicality in anything he did. Every task held a purpose, though he often found himself forgetting what it was he had to accomplish. A hint of arrogance ran about him, but his small wrongdoings kept him in his place.
Conversations between the wolf and the willow were unique to them, with the willow asking comically childish questions like,”What makes the grass grow?” to “Who built the mountains?”. The wolf, who would normally never stand for such tomfoolery, answered all her questions as kindly and plainly as possible. With each answer the willow drew great happiness, which humored the wolf, prompting him to answer more. However, the wolf would often question her as well, asking about the star movements and the deeper meaning behind life. It astounded him how little she knew of the realities of the world, yet understood the intangible meanings and overlying lessons. Both grew a fondness for one another, and each day they spent was agonizing, till the sun fell and both were reunited.
One night, when the wolf trotted over a fallen log to cross the marshy terrain towards his companion, he found the willow’s trunk had been hacked by some human tool. Her branches drooped farther than normal, and he could hear her shortened breaths on the wind. Racing to see what had happened, he called to her and felt along the scars while she spoke between pained cries. “A man came to me, wielding an ax. He attempted to bring me down, though his blade grew dull. I have stood here for many years, yet he believes he can destroy me in one fell swoop? I am stronger than that,” she mumbled, as the wolf howled in anguish. “My lady, I beg of thee, let me stay by your side till the morrow, and I will make swift work of this man.” The willow reluctantly agreed, warning,” my dearest friend, in my lifetime I have yet to see the sorrow of watching my partner die before me. Do not let it be today.” Both were near bursting with despair, as they lingered on the possibility of losing one another.
Just before sunrise, both were near napping until the wolf sensed a man approaching. Quick wit told him to hide as to not be spotted, and to launch an unexpected attack on the crafty human. With one final goodbye to the willow, she watched him slink into the cattails, her heart feeling crushed. The man appeared jovial and gay, toting a large sack full of tools on one arm and carrying an axe in his hand. Sneering, the wolf watched with a newfound patience as the man examined the tree he had begun tormenting the day before. “Eh? What’s dis?” he grumbled, peering through the scars to realize the tree was slowly rotting from inside. “Baaah, didn’t need it anyway. Ah well, might as well torch it, it’s dead anyway..,” he shrugged and shook his head, then began whistling while rummaging through his bag. The wolf stepped closer, but held his ground to wait and see what the man was doing. From his bag emerged two small, shimmering objects. He nodded and turned towards the tree, flicked them on each other, and created a spark of light which caught onto the willow’s spliced bark. She screamed in agony, and the wolf took no time in leaping out to attack the man. His howl roared alongside her shouts and the man’s shrieks into a symphony of chaos.
The man fumbled on the ground while the wolf snapped at his legs, trying to disable the man who sought to destroy his love. The wind flung through the willow’s flames, spreading them faster as the wolf made attempts at tearing parts of the man’s arm. His hand dug into his bag in a panic, and pulled out a large metal and wood rod, while he began stuffing something inside it as the wolf tore his clothes. One hard kick knocked the wolf back, and just as he was about to lunge again, a loud snap rang over the panicked individuals, and the wolf crumpled to the earth near the tree. Her shouts spread farther and louder than before, but the man was oblivious and shook off some dirt and wiped blood from his leg. He stood and hobbled away through the thicket, leaving the carnage behind him.
From the ground, the wolf lay in pain, gazing up at the willow, who he could tell was losing strength, as her howls were fading. He tried sitting up some, then slumped back down from the searing pain in his side, proceeding to shout as loud as he could over the crackling flames,” My love! It seems death has come for us both! My love, please forgive me for my ignorance and arrogance, but please find peace in your end.” The willow, gasping through the choking smog, spoke to him,” Sweet wolf, you will not ever leave my side, even as we pass to all other realms, I am here!”
“My lady, I will never forget you, and I swear it my duty to find you again, whoever or wherever I may be! For my passion for your presence burns as a fire. Find rest in your demise, sweet willow maid.”
The wolf howled as the sun began to rise over the mountains, and he collapsed beside the burning willow. Fire consumed the entire tree now, leaving charred bark and falling branches. From the flames, her red leaves flew up over the forest and danced on the wind.