Far beyond the gnarly oaks, and the silver birches, ran a river fed by the snows of the high hills.
There used be a bridge there built long ago - the Wulvern used to live right beneath it. You would often see him by the bank, fishing. A solitary and quiet thing.
He kept himself to himself.
Then one day the traveller came.
The traveller hailed from a land far far away and he had been on the road for a very long time.
He was also hungry and thirsty.
His rations were running thin. They had taken in a good measure of the fruits, nuts and mushrooms provided by the forest - and they were feeling quite tired and light headed to say the least.
Time for a rest!
I must put down my weary bones for a bit,' he said. 'I cannot go for a foot longer, no sir!'
Maybe I will nestle down beside the bank here, and let the sound of the waters lead me to sleep...
How wonderful!
The traveller lay down and had nearly closed his eyes, when he saw the Wulvern sitting by the bank, only a few steps away. The Wulvern had crept out from beneath his merry old bridge and he had his fishing rode in his hand ready top catch his supper for the day.
Of course the traveller had never seen such a thing before!
The Wulvern walked and moved like a man, but he had the head of a wolf, and also these strange gentle, peaceful brown eyes.
The two strangers looked at one another for a twinkling.
No words were exchanged.
The Wulvern looked so content, and keen to start fishing, and the traveller was too surprised to speak a single word.
They continued to look at each other.
The traveller fell into deep enchantment...
It was the eyes. They drank him in. They called him over.
So despite his weary bones the travel pulled himself to his feet and walked over to the Wulvern, and sat beside him.
The traveller no longer felt weary. The enchantment was deep in him!
NO!
He felt like the water, like the breeze, like the trees and the flowers.
And as the traveller continued to stare into the kind eyes of the Wulvern, a vision inside his mind awoke - the clouds cleared, and the sun lifted itself up and out and over the world. The traveller was a young child again, skipping in the fields. The years became one, as he was young again, in the vision, dancing under the sun, and rolling in the flowers. The clouds cleared and the skies became clear - it was spring, and the snows melted away - and the leaves were sticky and vibrant.
The traveller was content.
He eventually grew to forget his name.
Because the Wulvern had shown the traveller a kindness!
He had planted the man deep into the ground and in time a great tree grew out of him. Tall and proud would the tree grow to be, and it lived for eight hundred years!
(Remember! All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)
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