The Wolf in the Wood

Connla was born on a small, dreary island, where he lived with his mother in a cottage by the sea. Upon the island was a forest, and Connla spent much of his childhood playing with the animals therein. Being part wolf himself, it was simple to get along with most of the creatures of the woods. Whenever the sun began to set, Connla would say farewell to his companions and rush back home to supp with his mother, and she would read to him. Tales of distant lands, powerful gods, and brave heroes would fill his dreams.

One day, Connla ventured deep into the woods, so deep that the rest of the animals would not follow. Still, the brave boy set forth alone, eventually coming to the edge of the trees, where he gazed in awe at the small hamlet that was there. For a while, he stood and stared, awestruck at the world that spread out before him, a world he hadn't known was there. All day long, he sat and stared, watching the people of the village go about their business, none the wiser to his presence. Night began to fall, and the bustling people set aside their tasks and went home. Connla turned his tail to the town and made his way back home as well.

The next day, Connla returned to the edge of the wood and observed the people of the hamlet. He watched and took note of all the people and the things they did throughout the day. Fishermen fished, bakers baked, blacksmiths smithed, and children played. Before long, the sun began to set once again, and Connla returned home, thinking about all the things he did in a day.

Upon the next sunrise, Connla decided it was time he explored the village for himself. Emerging from the woods, he walked proudly through the hamlet, collecting many stares from its citizens. His tail betrayed his anxiety as his ears pricked at every whispered jab. He hadn't done anything but walk, and yet he felt he was unwanted. After a while, the people's whispers turned to shouts, and they shooed him away from the village with rakes and brooms. The last words he heard on his way back through the woods were those of the villagers calling him a monster.

Connla ran back to his mother, howling and crying and telling her all about what had happened. His mother cooed and soothed his fears. She began to read to him, just as she did on any other night, only this was a story Connla had never heard before. His mother read to him about a young boy who lived in a small village, but was cast out for being different. He made his way out of the forest the village was in, and found a great wide world outside it. He was afraid at first, but carried on, the skills of his master granting him confidence. He met many people as he journeyed through the land, and eventually he came to trust them. The people trusted him in turn, despite the fact that he made mistakes. In the lonely boy's darkest hour, the friends he had made came to save him. Connla thought about this story for many days, eventually mustering up the courage to try again.

When next Connla returned to the hamlet, he stayed within the tree-line, watching and waiting for an opportunity. When he heard someone screaming from the docks, he rushed into action, diving into the water and rescuing a child that had fallen in and floated away. He grabbed the little one by the scruff and paddled him back to shore, plopping him down on the dock where he rushed into the arms of his mother. He shook his wet fur, sending seawater all around, and slowly made his way back into the woods. He did not sit and wait for praise--he knew that trust would have to be earned.

As time passed, Connla became a staple in the village, helping the people wherever he could. They came to depend on him, and Connla became all the stronger for it. Together with the teachings of his mother, he grew into a reliable warrior as well as a dependable young man. Then came the anniversary of his birth, a day that would be the one his mother had dreaded for years.

Every year, on the anniversary of Connla's birth, his mother would take a small golden torc and slip it around his wrist. Every year, the torc would slip off of Connla's arm, and his mother would breathe a sigh of relief. Connla did not understand the tradition, and his mother would never explain it to him, but this year, everything changed. When his mother placed the torc around his wrist, she found that it fit his muscles as if it were forged to do so. Connla admired the golden braid as it remained fastened to his arm. Then his mother began to cry, reciting a story that came from no book on her many shelves.

"When I was a young girl," she began, "no older than you are now, I lived in a land far beyond the sea. I fell in love with a warrior who served the king. When the king discovered our love, he flew into a rage, refusing to see us wed. The warrior and I made plans to run away from the tyrant's rule, but we were discovered before we could escape. As punishment, the king placed a curse on us both: 'If you wish to run away, then away you shall go,' he said, 'but my loyal hound will remain here at my side for as long as I live!' And so, I was exiled to this little island. I cannot return to my home until the king is dead, and the warrior cannot slay him because of his curse of loyalty. Before I made my journey here, your father gifted me this torc saying 'Give it to my son, and when it fits around his wrist, you will know he has become a man strong enough to defeat the tyrant king and free us from this curse.' Now, the day has come when my little pup has become a wolf of his own, and so I cannot stop the flow of my tears."

That night, Connla could not sleep. The story of his mother echoed within his head beneath the light of the full moon. He emerged from his bed and stepped outside, gazing out at the vast sea from atop the hill upon which sat their humble home. Just then, something caught his eye: a curragh as white as the moon was making its way to the beach at the foot of the hill, and waiting for it was his mother. Connla hurried down the hill, careful not to make any noise, but could only watch as the curragh made land and a man stepped out. As Connla's toes touched the sand, the stranger fluttered his dark cloak around his mother, and the two figures transformed into seabirds and flew away into the night sky.

Connla took a deep breath, gazing once more at the torc around his wrist. He understood what had occurred before his eyes: his mother had made a deal with the god of the sea, that she would give up her very form in exchange for this enchanted curragh. Despite all her fears about Connla's destined journey, she sacrificed everything that he may see it through. Connla climbed aboard the curragh, placing a hand on the horse-shaped figurehead, and the enchanted boat shoved itself off into the placid night sea.