A.N.D. - Wolf Woods

The sound of carriages on the road was so common that Littlebit didn’t bother looking up from her sewing anymore. Humans were coming to New Sanctuary. Some, the mates and in-laws of wolves and half wolves, had been there all along. But now unrelated humans were arriving on a daily basis. First had been the royal messengers, calling for “howl talkers” for Wendell’s new network and signing up more recruits for the Royal army. Next came architects and builders, sent by Wendell to learn wolfy needs to design the perfect garrison layout. Every now and then, sightseers were drawn down the road from Snow White’s cottage by the irresistible hope of seeing Wolf and Virginia in the flesh.

But most of the people coming through were merchants (who didn’t care whether their customers crowded around their carts on two feet or four as long as there was something lucrative to sell or trade) and groupies. Who knew there could be wolf groupies? But after all these years of prejudice, Wolf’s famous exploits and Wendell’s royal notice had made it fashionable to have a tail. So fashionable that Littlebit was shocked that the drawings of the latest clothing designs showed fake tails attached to the back of fancy dress!

Oh, not everyone loved wolves yet. That acceptance would not, could not, come so quickly. Still, the irony of some people wanting to flaunt what most wolves spent their lives hiding was amusing. Fortunately, Wendell sent a notice forbidding the false fur. That didn’t stop the fad, but it meant that Littlebit wasn’t going to find herself in the position of adding them to the suits she worked on. Life was bizarre enough, what with the ghosts.

The spectral children finally learned to leave her alone; their constant warnings about “humans coming” had proved pointless in the face of the current immigration. Equally distant were the human killer and the human woman who had cursed him. They were both still there, lurking; occasionally she’d see one out of a corner of her eye, staring at her, but they had stopped interacting with her.

But the gutted wolf mother was always waiting for her outside. Littlebit had the oddest feeling that the ghost was... lonely.

Virginia was reading, Wolf was playing with a giggling Dell, and Littlebit wanted some fresh air. Despite being able to see the ghost leaning over the front gate, she called out, “I’m going to the market,” and stepped outside.

The ghost didn’t turn to look at her; it continued to watch the parade of traffic up the street to the main square. “This reminds me of what it was like in my day,” she said, waving a semi-transparent hand at the passing carts.

“I like it,” Littlebit announced. “Virginia says it’s like being home, only without traffic jams and muggings.”

“Are they staying after the undenning?”

“Until the cold comes. Virginia says she won’t spend the winter anywhere that doesn’t have central heat and indoor plumbing.”

She could have walked through the ghost to open the gate, but it moved aside for her. Its continuing friendliness prompted Littlebit to ask, “What is the curse you put on me?”

“Bad luck. You’ve lost your tail, you’ve been accused of crimes, you were outcast.” The ghost’s tone turned hurt. “Haven’t you noticed?”

Noticed? Noticed?! Littlebit burst into bitter laughter. “Of course I didn’t notice! How was what happened after I gave birth been any worse than what happened up until then? My parents murdered before us, my brother carried off to jail, my other brother selling me to gypsies, who raped me... to be a wolf in this place was to be cursed at birth!”

The ghost glanced ruefully downwards at its own fatal wound. “I know.” It reached to grasp her arm, its fist a cool, intangible pressure. “I said this town has become what I remember mine as being. Be sure that our stories do not end the same!” With that, the ghost vanished, leaving Littlebit to wonder.

Wolf frowned as he looked through the window at his departing sister. She was talking to the air. Again. Poor Littlebit, he’d been so happy to have his little family back together again, he’d never thought about how she might feel about caring for his cub. Oh, she loved Dell, all wolves loved all children. But Dell must also be a constant reminder of the baby she’d abandoned.

He wasn’t being fair. Perhaps it was time to hire a few servants to help out. Virginia was complaining that she felt “outnumbered” in the village, and Wendell had offered him servants galore, so when it was time for Dell’s nap, he’d write a letter asking the king to send him a couple of experienced, well-recommended human helpers. And he’d talk quietly around town to find a good tracker or two to finish sniffing out the gypsy camps.

Wendell looked out at the sea of yellow eyes and wondered how long it would take him to be in a roomful of wolves without wondering if he’d end up the Catch of the Day. Probably his entire life.

Still, the more he went forward with his wolf projects, the more convinced he was that he was doing the right thing. His kingdom was already the largest and the most famous. If he was right, this project would also make it the most powerful. He might even become someone who Changed History!

The problem, which Griswold constantly pointed out, was that if he was wrong, he was practically handing the kingdom over to the wolves, and then he would be just a historical footnote, probably under a name like “Wendell the UnWise.” Or possibly “Wendell the Well-Chewed.” Enough stalling. Time to find out if his fantastic idea would work. With a last level look into his grandmother’s painted eyes, Wendell stood up from his throne and took a deep breath.

“Congratulations to all of you. Many wolves and half wolves have answered my call for troops and howlers. You have proved, through many tests and contests, to have the clearest tones, the most carrying howls, and the sharpest ears of all the volunteers. You are the best, the most talented. For you, I have a special assignment.”

They were staring at him in polite concentration; the very attention that he was gratified to get from a human was making his mouth go dry from a wolf. Wendell struggled to look right at them instead of looking away. Sebastian had warned him that looking away showed weakness.

“So that you understand, let me start by telling you a story that I learned from Lord Anthony. A long time ago, in his land very far away on the other side of the magic mirror, there were a race of people called Indians, and like you, they were treated poorly by the settlers in that land.

Then, one day, the other kingdoms in that place went to war with the Tenth Kingdom. It was a war much bigger than any war we had ever seen, so big they called it a World War, and the Tenth Kingdom was fighting along many borders. It was imperative that the Tenth Kingdom be able to send messages among the troops quickly and securely.

Alas, every time they came up with a secret code, their enemies found a way to read it. Then one day, some Indians from a pack called the Navajo came to be soldiers in the war. It was their land too, so they wanted to fight for it.

The Indians spoke their own tongue as well as the tongue of the settlers, just as you can speak in growls and howls as well as our language. These Navajo came up with a code based on their native speech. Nobody ever broke this code. The Tenth Kingdom won the war and the men they now called ‘Wind Talkers’ became heroes.”

They looked at him, with puzzled expressions and cocked heads. Didn’t they see how obvious it was?

“Your usual howls will pass along most news, and most people will not understand them. But every wolf can translate them, and sometimes I will need messages to be passed more secretly. I want you to be my WindTalkers.”