CHAPTER 12

GOOD MORNING SUNSHINE

It’s painful to see those we love suffering.

Especially when there’s little we can do about it.

Sometimes we’re forced to sit and watch, hoping and praying for miracles.

…but there are times when we are pushed to try something different.

Something to affect change.

True wisdom is in knowing when to watch and when to act.

“Is there any change?”

The head of the Hand swayed, bowing. It was an odd sight to the High Elder, for the evolu healer was nearly twice his height. It looked more like a parent leaning down to talk to a child than a motion of respect. His words were soft and ever patient.

“Not that We are aware of.”

It wasn’t the news Delnar was looking for.

The Hand stood there with his three mates, each standing to the left of their male counterpart. Eyes wide and alert, faces set in an expression of compassion and serenity. The High Elder wasn’t sure if they were called mates, wives…or something else. Yet the four evolu healers seemed to move and interact with their environment in perfect unison.

To the left and right of the doorway stood the Royal Guard, twelve soldiers standing at attention, six along each wall. Each had their right hand resting upon a sheathed long blade, while their right hand remained folded behind their back.

Any casual observer might think this to be a relaxed state, but Delnar knew better. He’d worked with and studied the elves for a good portion of his life, and had even met the Othethiä himself. He knew that each hand was lightly gripping a sleek dagger, able to flash across flesh or worse, an artery, before an enemy could blink.

Lady Alaria had commanded all from the room, to be alone with her son. Once the door was closed, both the Hand and the Royal Guard had taken up positions in front of the chamber. Their Lady would be obeyed and left alone, undisturbed.

Not even Council members were permitted to interrupt whatever was going on behind those doors.

That was two days ago.

The High Elder frowned. He wasn’t just the head of the Iskari High Council, he was the leader of the Iskari race. That meant every life which entered into Erimuri was, in the end, his responsibility. Knowing that Dax was behind that door and out of his reach…that his friend was out of his reach…disturbed him.

It disturbed him greatly.

“Could she be hurt?” Delnar asked quietly, trying to maintain his composure. “Have you checked upon her?”

The Hand shook his head, the evolu’s companions shaking their heads in perfect unison. “No, We have not. Interrupting Our Lady, could prove harmful if she is bonding with young Daxänu. She must have silence uninterrupted.”

Delnar pondered that, then nodded, “Of course.”

The Hand did not move. Like pale white pillars, they remained in front of the door, while Lady Alaria’s personal guards stood at attention, fully prepared to support their healing counterparts.

There was nothing to be done but wait.

Delnar gave a deep bow, eyes downward as he said calmly, “Please let us know if there is anything we can assist with or provide. Anything at all.”

With that, the High Elder reluctantly stepped back, turned, and walked away.

****

Woodcutters Cove wasn’t exactly a bustling village, but with the sun out, so were the people.

Women smiled and called out to one another as they unburied their garden plots, dug up their root crops or pulled grain in from the barns and root cellars. A large group set to work on a central plot at the center of town, digging and filling woven baskets with what looked like potatoes. Even the children, those not running about throwing snowballs at one another, were at work—picking winter berries from the abundant plants growing around and in between the cottages.

The men were a different story. Wagons and carts rolled about, churning snow into mud, hauling chairs and tables, mantles and statues…all made of fine, polished wood. Others hauled in massive logs or curiously twisted trunks, on flatbed wagons pulled by oxen to be inspected for quality.

At the south end of town, many wagons converged, preparing to caravan down to the valley.

Several other wagons were parked at different intervals about the village loop. These were colorful and elaborate, covered with woven tapestries and painted lively shades of spring and summer. Wagons which held goods of all kinds, accompanied by merchants—men or couples, dressed in nicer clothes than those sported by the villagers.

They shouted aloud the offerings of the week: herbs and spices, trinkets and cloth, tools and toys. There was something for everyone and it was all offered with open smiles.

Wendell sat on a stump along the loop, crunching on an apple. Every few minutes he’d get a nod or a wave or the tip of a hat, which seemed odd, considering he supposedly had the plague just the night before.

“Wendell, look what I got!” cried Shayle, dashing through the snow. Unfortunately, her feet wanted to move faster than the rest of her body was prepared to support and she tripped face first into a snowbank.

Lyndie, tugging on Elsa’s hand, giggled.

“Did you find work?” Elsa asked, lifting Shayle from the snow, sputtering and wiggling.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s hiring,” Wendell replied. “I’ve spent all morning walking from barn to barn, asking, being directed to someone else, who then directed me to someone else. So no, nothing yet. I was told by three gentlemen that if I liked hard work to come back in the summer and they may have something for me. Sadly I’ve run out of people to talk to.”

“Keep yer spirits up, Wembell!” shouted Luna from her porch with a wave.

Wendell laughed and waved back. “Good news is, I seem to be a bit more accepted by the community…even if they do get my name wrong.”

Elsa grinned wide, “The whole town knows about you.”

Wendell nearly choked on a bite of apple. “They do?”

She nodded. “They know you couldn’t pay for your meal and they know you met Sawyer last night,” Elsa slowly shook her head in embarrassment. “Apparently they also heard whispers that a nice young newcomer is helping with the orphans.” She scrunched her face and tried to deepen her voice, “Took responsibility for himself with Old Mayson, he did. Didn’t run out or nuthin’. Paid his debt in full like a man! Now what kinda youth does that?”

Wendell chuckled, “Did someone actually say that?”

She nodded, brushing the snow from Shayle’s arms and chest. Content, she placed the child back on the ground and watched her wander off to play in another snowbank.

“Wow. Talk about gossip central.”

“It’s not really gossip,” Elsa corrected him. “People of this village have to rely on each other for almost everything. Someone’s loss becomes our loss.” She eyed the two girls, nodding in their direction, “So when something new happens, it’s shared. If you pay attention you’ll notice there’s no malice attached, just curiosity.”

Huh. I guess that makes sense, Wendell nodded. Not that I want my every move to be watched, but I guess when you live out here like this, you’d want to know what’s happening with those you depend on.

Shayle rushed past Elsa and up to Wendell, tugging on the hem of his jacket. Her huge brown eyes stared up at him with wild excitement. “LOOK!” she squealed, “Hat! Gloves!” She giggled and shook Wendell’s coat with both hands.

Wendell knelt down on one knee and grinned, his expression mimicking her own. “They look lovely, too. Warm?”

“Uh-Huh!” she grinned, clapping her gloves together.

“Even though you fell in the snow?”

She nodded gleefully, “Uh-Huh!”

“Amazing. Must be a very good hat and gloves!”

“Lyndie got pretty boots,” she whispered, though loud enough for everyone to hear, to which her sister raised a foot out of the snow and into the air.

THA-THUMP-THUMP!

Wendell’s smile faded.

“Hello, Elsa.”

Oh boy—here we go again.

Sawyer looked even more intimidating in daylight. Now that Wendell had a good look at the brute, he was surprised he’d gotten away with the few wounds he’d suffered.

In his early twenties, Sawyer had cannonball shoulders supporting muscular tree trunks for arms, both attached to a broad chest almost as wide as the tree trunk Wendell was sitting on.

I’ve seen gorillas at the zoo smaller than him!

What disturbed Wendell, though, was the canine expression on Sawyers face. Maybe it was the greasy, unwashed red hair, combined with the heavy stubble and massive collection of blackheads blending with pimples across his cheekbones. That and the ill-healed scars across the side of his face. He imagined an animal refusing to kiss Sawyer and had clawed at him to get away.

When Sawyer smiled, he didn’t at all look happy or pleasant. He looked like he wanted to tear something apart with his teeth.

To make matters worse, two companions flanked the bully. They weren’t quite as big as Sawyer, but they equaled him in ugliness. Both looked more like teens, maybe fifteen or sixteen, but ate too much plant food when they were infants.

“I’m glad to see you got home safe last night,” Sawyer said through his creepy grin.

Elsa turned her back to him, focusing her attention on Lyndie, fingers fumbling with a bow in the child’s hair that was already tied. “No thanks to you.”

Sawyers attention shifted to Wendell then, his eyes narrowing to slits. “Right. Well, I wants to make it up to you. Fer being so rough with this guy,” and he thumbed his dirty glove in Wendell’s direction. “What’s say we have a meal and drink at The Den tonight,” he gave that wide canine smile again, showing a mouth full of dark stained teeth, “Just me’n you, Elsa. I get paid today, and we could have a real good time.”

Elsa flinched.

“Oh,” Wendell sighed, “I certainly don’t want to get in the way here, Sawyer…”

All eyes shifted slowly to Wendell who fought hard not to gulp out loud.

“…but Elsa and all the kids were already going to The Den tonight for dinner. I promised to treat them for giving me a place to stay.”

“Really?” beamed Lyndie, while Shayle let out a loud gasp behind her. Lyndie’s shoulders popping upward, little fingers lacing together just under her chin. “Do we get to have pie!?”

Wendell chuckled, “You get to have whatever you like for dinner.”

“WEEEEEEEE!” cried both girls, throwing their hands up into the air.

Sawyer looked down at the girls bobbing up and down, then to Elsa. His face slowly flushed red, jaw clenched tight.

Good grief, Wendell thought, guy can’t have anything go wrong without losing it, can he?

As if on cue, Sawyer glared at Wendell and took a short step forward.

“Thank you, Sawyer,” Elsa cut in, “for the offer.” She forced a smile upon her face, her tone kind and sweet. “That was very kind of you. The children and I already had plans.” As his attention shifted back to her, she added “But I’m glad you wanted to apologize.”

The great beast turned his head long enough to give Wendell a near snarl. “Apologize? For hittin’ this…thing?” the words rumbled deep in his chest, “Not a chance.”

Oh boy, Wendell though to himself, I think I prefer High School. The two obviously over-fed boys behind Sawyer shot him crooked smiles in stereo. One of them cracked his knuckles to add effect. Shifting around the little girls, still dancing in joy, they positioned themselves on either side of Wendell.

He gulped a little too loudly.

Do I have a ‘Kick me, beat me, and break my face’ sign on my back? No matter where I go or what I try, I seem to be a magnet for the village bullies. His eyes shifted between the two thugs. Can’t I attract the village idiots instead? Have boring conversations about the weather and bird droppings?

But maybe that was the point. Perhaps Wendell had been trying to solve things in the wrong way. He’d been trying to express himself and be the peacemaker, sure, but the bully didn’t want to hear what Wendell had to say. He needed to speak Sawyers own language.

Which gave him an idea.

Forcing his biggest smile onto his face, Wendell turned to the three and said, “Look, Sawyer, I agree with you. I should be the one apologizing to you.”

Everyone paused.

The two youth looming over him scrunched their brows in confusion and even Elsa cocked her head to the side.

Sawyer frowned so hard in confusion, his blazing red brows nearly touched the bridge of his nose. “You…what?”

Wendell’s smile blended into a genuine one. Gotcha. “I owe you an apology. I mean, I’d just arrived and didn’t know anyone and certainly didn’t know I was crossing any lines. All I was looking for was a place to get some food, rent a bed and hopefully find a job,” he held up both hands in surrender, “not cause anyone trouble. Elsa just saw how lost I was and tried to help me out when I didn’t know what to do, that’s all.”

For a moment Wendell wasn’t certain everything was sinking into the big guys brain, his expressions were so contorted. “So if it’s okay, I’d like to try and make it up to you.”

That stunned the big guy. Fists unclenched and arms went limp, while the twin bicep boys in the background looked at one another puzzled. Sawyer adjusted his stance and said calmly, “How?”

Wendell looked between all three of them, “Let me buy you and your friends a meal tonight. And after that, your drinks are on me until The Den closes.”

Sawyer looked up at his buddies for a moment, then dropped down to settle on Wendell again. “Me and my friends?”

Wendell nodded, smile still on his face. Please say yes, oh please let this situation be over and just say yes so we can move on!

A muscular finger as thick as a tree branch poked him solidly in the chest.

“From what’s I remember, you didn’t have no coin last night to pay for what you ordered from Mayson! I ain’t gettin’ stuck with a…”

“No, no, no,” Wendell cut in quickly, pulling out his little pouch out of a pocket, “I wasn’t broke, I’d only misplaced my money.” He pulled the lip of the bag open, “And to prove I mean what I say, you can have a few drinks on me, right now.” Pulling out a silver coin, he used his thumb to flick it towards Sawyers face.

The man caught it in his palm without blinking or diverting his glare from Wendell.

Wow, he’s…quick.

“That can’t be real,” grunted one of the muscle-heads, “he’s just foolin’ ya, Saw. Ain’t but a few around here got silver on ‘em, and that don’t include some kid. Don’t believe ‘em.”

Large fingers flipped the coin end over end, inspecting. The rough attitude melted away, the feral grin making its way back across Sawyers face to hide. “Looks real alright, boys. Sounds like drinks’r comin’ early today,” and a huge fist wrapped around the coin. “Alright mister, you got a deal. Me’n my friends will be there.” He wagged a huge finger at Wendell, “You just make sure you tell Ol Mayson you’re payin before I get there.”

Again Wendell raised both hands, palms up in a defensive gesture, “You have my word, Sawyer. Food and drinks are on me for you and your friends.”

The three turned, Sawyer’s gaze lingering on Elsa, and walked away.

“You have my word”, one of the boys repeated mockingly under his breath. “Idiot. Who talks like that?”

Watching Sawyer and his minion swagger away, Wendell finally exhaled. That was close.

Truth was, Wendell felt pretty good. Better to part with coin than body parts.

Coin.

He hadn’t truly noticed until now that, for the most part, money hadn’t been a concern since he’d arrived. Back home he’d still be struggling with his mom, trying to help pay the bills. Things had hit harder than they expected after his father had passed away.

Not that money was the most important thing to Wendell.

It wasn’t.

He was raised to have a respect for finances, but people were always more important. His mother was constantly saying, ‘Think abundantly, Wendell. God gave all His children enough and to spare…but some are blessed with greater talents to acquire the comforts of life than others. That’s when it’s our responsibility and our privilege to make sure we share with those who have less.’

It got Wendell’s mind churning…

How much money DO I have in his pouch?

It hadn’t occurred to him until he’d talked to Wood in the Black Market that Wendell truly didn’t have any concept of monetary values here. What was food worth? Clothes worth? Is there anything I can’t buy with what I have in my hand? Are there ways to make money like banks do back home—loaning out amounts and making interest on it?

“That was smart.”

“What?” Wendell turned to find Elsa staring.

She reached down and took both the girls hands. “Taking the blame when it wasn’t your fault. Not that I wish any ill on someone else, even Sawyer, but he is not a nice person. He loves violence, Wendell. It’s not a secret. It was silly of me to have pushed him like that. I’ve never heard him apologize…to anyone. He just walks away when he’s wrong.” She paused for a moment, studying Wendell. “You gave him a way out, which was kind. But then you offered him a gift he doesn’t deserve.”

“Elsa! Elsa—look what we got from Master Wolek!”

Jacob and Kale were sprinting through the snow, with Tim walking casually behind them. The twins skidded to a halt between Elsa and Wendell, thrusting two medium bows, one red and one blue up into her face.

“Wow, boys! Now you won’t have to keep asking for bows in the spring,” she smiled, “And you had enough to get some arrows as well?”

Tiny hands patted the side pouches on either hip. “Both got a dozen arrows!” beamed Kale.

“Hunter’s tips,” added Jacob, “But you should see Tim!”

“They have eyes, Jacob,” Tim said cooly. The boy strode up wearing a heavy fur coat which looked a bit too big, thick leather gloves, and a finely crafted spear in one hand.

Elsa gasped, and not in a good way. “Why do you have a spear, Tim? And…that jacket, those gloves. I have a hard time believing Woleck gave you all that for a single silver coin.”

“He didn’t,” Tim replied, his tone even. “I added my dad’s hunters axe with the coin.”

Elsa gasped. “Why Tim? That axe meant the world to you…”

“It’s not doing me any good if I can’t use it and we need protection now, not when I’m five years older and able to swing the darn thing!” Gripping the spear in both hands, he shook it a few times, then stabbed it into the snow. “There’s a wolf out there, Elsa, and it’s been coming around our home. Around my family. So it’s time that I acted my age, which means I need a weapon I can use!”

It was hard not to admire the boys heart. Wendell understood that feeling. The duty to take care of his family when his father died, but this was SO different. Tim was talking about engaging with a wild animal. To face something that would, in all likelihood, kill him.

You’re like what, Tim? Ten, maybe twelve years old?? And people think I’M supposed to be a hero? The Iskari should meet kids like this!

“I…I don’t know what to say, Tim,” Elsa answered, flustered.

“There’s nothing to say,” Tim replied. He smiled at his little sisters, giving Shayle a wink, “This is about protecting our family.”

Elsa mustered a weak smile and gripped the boys shoulder. “Then I’m proud of you.”

“So you’re a wolf hunter now, Tim?” Lyndie asked wide-eyed.

Wendell noticed the young boy puff out his chest.

“Not yet, Lyndie,” chimed Jacob, “Tim’s still too short to hunt real wolves, so he’s gotta practice.”

“Yeah,” added Kale, “on all those fierce stuffed animals!” The twins winked at each other, though Tim just rolled his eyes. Jumping forward with fingers curved into imaginary claws, Kale snarled at Shayle, “So you better hide Mr. Buttons, cause Tims gonna EAT him!”

The four year old gulped so loud, everyone heard it.

Tears welling up in her eyes.

“ELLLLSAAAA!!”

Elsa laughed then, waving her arms at them all, “Back to the house, all of you! I have a delivery to make.”

With the children still giggling about their new presents, they danced and chased one another up and down the path.

“I still don’t like it, Elsa,” Tim complained. “And I have a decent weapon now—I can protect you.”

Elsa gave Tim’s arm a good squeeze. “I know you can, I do. But I also know that strength should be here, protecting those who can’t protect themselves. Wendell is with me. I’ll be fine.” She gave him a smile, but it wasn’t reciprocated. Lifting the basket to her hip, she glanced over at the twins showing off their new bows to the girls—each taking turns shooting Wendell with invisible arrows. Wendell would instantly fall to the ground as an animal, dying in rather horrific ways. “Besides, Silas gets distracted when you kids show up. I want to talk to him about considering Wendell for a job.”

Tim frowned. “You’re getting rid of him already?”

“What, you going to miss him? Just because he gave you some money, Tim…”

“I like him, Elsa, because he ticks off big, tall and stupid.” But he rolled his eyes, “And being bribed doesn’t hurt.”

Elsa yanked Tim in and pecked him on the cheek. “You’re a good person. I don’t care what the twins say behind our back.”

“Hah. Hah.”

****

The walk to the O’Brien farm wasn’t far, but the ice and mud from the snow made the venture a bit more than a casual walk.

“I just don’t understand how a girl your age decides to become a mother to five other orphans?” Wendell grunted as they trudged up the snow-laden path, finally willing the mägoweave to extend some metal cleats from the soles of his boots.

Ahhhh, much better!

“I’m impressed, don’t get me wrong,” he continued, “but what made you take on such a huge responsibility?”

Readjusting the basked over her shoulder, Elsa stopped at the top of a large rock outcropping. She glanced around with a broad grin on her face. Any stress or concern fluttered away with the view.

Birds chirped loudly in the cool afternoon air, darting back and forth between the trees. The fall colors rebelled against the new snow, still trying to show off before mother winter arrived altogether.

“I’m not their mother, and I never thought I’d be one,” she gasped, “I’ve always approached this like a big sister.” Her hot breath rolled out from her mouth as she pulled a few stray strands of hair from her lips. “I remembered how other people came to my rescue. How people reached out. Comforted me, encouraged me, protected me…and here I was, a girl with a large home, a business, and land to support a family. The room was there, and I didn’t want them to be alone any more than I wanted to be alone.” She readjusted the basket and started walking again, “It’s actually a bit selfish now that I think about it.”

“Selfish?” Wendell grunted, climbing up the slope, “Uh, no. What you do isn’t selfish, Elsa, not by any stretch of the imagination. Those kids love you to pieces!”

She smiled brightly at that. “They all miss their parents, but the feeling is mutual. They’re wonderful children.”

“So why did you ask me to accompany you?” Wendell snickered, “From what I heard, you had at least two brave hunters willing to protect you along the way. Three if you count the new wolf hunter of the village.”

“You mean the ‘mighty hunters of Putäyäl’?” Elsa laughed, “The twins would convince you that this forest is overrun with ridge wolves, cave cats…”

“Don’t forget the roaming packs of flesh-eating squirrels.”

Elsa laughed louder, “Ah yes, the most dangerous animal of the forest…and their favorite creature to hunt.”

Wendell laughed also. “Well isn’t that convenient.”

The mountainside was dense with mighty trees stretching to the sky in vibrant greens, reds and specks of yellow. The rocky terrain made traveling relatively easy, even with patches of snow. Eventually the two discovered a well-worn path, laden with wagon tracks. Many of the trees on either side of the path had been cut down, stumps showing their faces every few feet.

Wendell stumbled as he worked his way over the last rock. With a hop and a slide, he landed squarely in the path. “So where are we going again?”

Elsa didn’t turn, her breathing labored but steady. She spoke in between breaths.

“I thought there might be a possible job for you up here.” She pointed ahead of them, “Silas O’Brien is the master carver of our village. He’s also one of the most sought after artisans in Andilain. If anyone would have work to be done…and be willing to pay for it, it would be Silas.”

“What’s the basket for? Bribery?”

Grinning, “This is the main reason we’re visiting, not your employment. Silas has always looked out for me when I needed it. Challenged some men who tried to steal my parents’ home when I was younger. A few even tried to take the mill from me by force. Silas oversaw the mill for nearly two years until the fire.” When she looked up again, her eyes were clear and happy. “He’s family. So when I make bread, I like to set aside a portion and bring it to him.”

“Ah,” Wendell nodded, “So he doesn’t feel alone.”

Elsa shook her head softly. “So he knows he’s loved.”

The path opened up the forest, the trees pulling back to form a large ring encompassing a small meadow. Unlike the somewhat chaotic and haphazard layout of Woodcutter Cove, with its clusters of huts and odd fences for livestock, the O’Brien farm was quite the opposite.

The path Wendell and Elsa walked led into the center of the farm, which moseyed its way around a small patch of trees. It curved in front of a giant log building and then completed the loop to merge with the same path back out to the village. To the south of the large building was a much smaller cabin, encased with a deep porch and dozens of hanging pots. Clusters of fruit trees littered the property, while a neat and tidy fence barred roaming sheep from grazing on a picture-perfect garden still brimming with vegetables.

Wendell noticed a soft tune being whistled. “Sounds like Silas is in the bigger building.”

Elsa grabbed his arm. Her grip was firm. “Wait.”

Wendell shuffled to a stop. “Wait? Why…”

“He has dogs.”

Wendell looked about nervously. “Okaaaay. Dogs are good. I like dogs.”

“Yes but, uhhh,” her grip increased on Wendell’s arm, “stay right here.”

“Well I’m not going…"

“Silas!” Elsa cried out loud. “Silas, I brought you some sweetbread!”

The large building erupted with thunderous barking so loud, Wendell stumbled several steps backward.

“Tam! Mouse! That’s enough!!” roared a human voice, which caused the barking to drop to whimpers. “You know who that is, so go say hello!”

Elsa took a quick step in front of Wendell and shouted, “Silas—I have a visitor with me!!”

It was too late.

Barreling through the crack in the heavy shop doors, two giant canines emerged, tongues hanging out as they trotted towards Elsa.

That is,…until they noticed Wendell behind her.

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

Ohhhh, crap. Those aren’t dogs…. She said he had dogs! Those are freaking HORSES WITH FANGS!!

Both beasts launched themselves forward, eyes fixed and teeth bared as a growl resonated so forcefully from their chests, Wendell could feel it through the air.

Oh momma, they ARE gonna eat me…

Wendell turned to run, but his feet just couldn’t move fast enough.

THEY’RE GONNA EAT MEEEEEEEEEEE!! he started to scream. Yet all that escaped Wendell’s lips was a tiny squeak as he took off like a blur.

Canines in hot pursuit.

“SILAS, HELP!!” Elsa cried out, dropping the basket and sprinting after the dogs. “TAM! MOUSE! HEEL!!”

Back down the path Wendell darted, his feet moving faster that he knew possible.

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

Tha-THUMP-Thump!

YOU’RE NOT HELPING!!

“I need a branch,” he panted, jumping over a trunk and bolting toward the forest line. “Need a branch, need a branch…I DON’T WANT TO BE A CHEW-TOY!!”

WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!! boomed the encroaching canines. With each passing moment, their heavy footfall could be heard gaining ground.

Once through the outer rim of the trees, Wendell began weaving in and out of the grove. Zig zag, Wendell, zig zag….they can’t get you if you…DOH! They aren’t shooting at you, moron, they’re DOGS!! “WHY CAN’T I FIND A LOW HANGING BRANCH IN A FORES….”

Then he saw it.

A beautiful tree with thick low branches he could reach with minimal effort.

If he could just get to the trunk, it would be easy to shimmy up the plant to safety and sit there until this Silas could get his mutts under control.

Oh yeah, baby, he grinned, the Wendellizer’s gonna win.

With all his might, Wendell pushed himself faster and faster. With his last bit of strength, he kicked off a bolder protruding from the ground and lunged upward, arms outstretched. His fingers made firm contact, easily gripping his ticket to safety.

Salvation

What he didn’t account for, was how close the dogs actually were.

The impact from behind was solid—the surface area of the  dogs head covering most of the surface area of Wendell’s back. A huge battering ram, knocking the air from his lungs as well as dislodging his grip.

Like a rag doll, Wendell’s body flipped wildly, his upper thighs slamming against the trunk of the tree, sending him into a spin.

A spin which whipped him around the trunk—his skull colliding into the adjacent tree.

****

Wendell winced, pain shooting through his head.

Luckily, there was something soft supporting it at the moment, which made moaning a little less painful.

Huh-huh-huh, the hot mountain air rushed over his chest and face, warm grass brushing against his right hand. Wendell winced at the pungent smell.

Someone in the village must be curing meats, cause that wind stinks…

He blinked several times, and a sharp stabbing sensation jumped from the back of his head to the back of his eyes.  Everything was a powerful blur of dancing lights and incomprehensible shapes. Every shift of light stabbed painfully back into his brain.

“Ow,” he finally said out loud, clenching his eyes closed.

Hands tightly gripped the arms of…a chair? I’m sitting in a chair. Wait. They brought me a chair?

Again Wendell blinked, lifting his lid to let the light in. Ow, ow, owww. Trying to focus his eyes to the shapes around him, he forced himself to lock onto the shadowed mountain range in the distance. Two great peaks, with a vast valley connecting them. Below the valley was a…

Red waterfall?

Red water beat against crystal stalactites and stalagmites.

Again the warm wind and pungent smelling wind assaulted his senses.

Wendell tried to shake his head clear, but immediately flinched. It just caused more pain.

“What happened?” he whispered aloud.

Huh-huh-huh.

“Absolutely nothing, boy,” grunted a low, gravely voice. “Not a blasted thing…which is your lucky day.”

“We have to stop meeting like this, Wendell,” added a familiar voice.

Where have I heard that voi-- “Downing?”

Huh-huh-huh.

Downing chuckled, “You don’t have to throw yourself into danger just to have a conversation with me, kid. You do realize that, don’t you?”

Wendell smirked, “Can’t seem to get away from people or things that want to punch me or eat me.”

“He’s the one who carried you back to the cabin,” Elsa added. Wendell relaxed a bit at the sound of her voice.

Come on, eyes, you can do this. I need to see. Please,…Ithari?

Huh-huh-huh.

And what is it with that nasty smelling wind?!? YUCK.

Slowing his breathing, Wendell calmed his mind, taking deeper breaths and exhaling through his nose. Light and shadow slowly came into focus.

Wendell blinked repeatedly, moistening his eyes.

Come on…come on…there you goooo.

The sharp mountain peaks in the distance started sprouting…hair?…smoothing out, two eyes slowly pushing out from under each peak. A nose suddenly thrusted out from between the eyes, and the red flowing waterfall, stopped flowing. Crystal stalactites and stalagmites transformed into…

Teeth.

“AAAAAHHH!”

In one awkwardly fluid motion, Wendell threw himself out of the chair and onto the floor. His chest hit first, followed by his face, arms twisting like broken wings of a large bird.

The old man looked at him curiously, one wiry brow aching high. “Never seen anything like it,” but he paused. “I’ve seen stupid youth a plenty, but not with my hounds.”

He had a full white beard down to his collarbone, a deep brown tunic and pants heavily worn, covered in hints of wood shavings. He leaned against a large table in the middle of the room, arms folded, one boot propped up on a long bench.

Elsa stood next to him, her hand over her mouth, small giggles escaping between her fingers.

Wendell’s heart pounded in his chest. “You’re laughing at me?”

The old man smirked. “Well it is funny to watch a boy jump from a puppy.”

Wendell shot a glance at Downing, who sat calmly in the sister chair. The woodsman just grinned and shrugged.

Puppy?!? Wendell gripped the arm of his chair and shimmied to his knees. Slowly he poked his head up over the lip of the wood.

Huh-huh-huh.

Resting on the other arm of the chair was the head of a wolf.

A big wolf.

No, that isn’t right.

It reminded Wendell of a bear more than any wolf.

No, that’s still not right.

Let’s just say that the largest dog he’d ever seen would look like a Chihuahua compared to this monster.

Elsa knelt down beside him, her expression soft, though she was still biting her lip, trying not to laugh. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think about the dogs. Completely slipped my mind until we got here. Are you okay?”

Wendell’s hand went to the side of his head. “Now I understand why we cut down trees.”

She cleared her throat, “How do you feel?”

The old man laughed heartily, leaned over and slapped Wendell roughly on the shoulder. “Use your kisser for girls, boy, not bark, and you’ll be halfway there! HAHA!”

Gripping Wendell under one arm, he helped him onto his feet. Wendell was shocked at the effortless motion from such an old man, but his grip was solid. “My pups should have eaten you, uhh…” and he looked to Elsa.

“Wendell,” she finished. “Silas O’Brien, this is Wendell. Wendell, this is Silas.”

Wendell winced again, a powerful throb in his skull poking at the back of his eyes, but held out his hand. “Wendell Dipmier, sir. Painful to meet you, Silas.”

Silas shook Wendell’s hand and gave Elsa a wink, “I like him.”

“Yah!” Wendell cried out, stumbling back into Elsa.

“Easy, Wendell, it’s okay,” she tried to assure him.

Sitting perfectly still, side by side were the two biggest dogs Wendell had ever seen. Giant heads of brown, grey and black streaks encompassed snow white facial-fur, stretching down neck and breasts, ending in white bushy paws. Large dark triangle ears stood erect, and even while sitting on their hind quarters, their heads reached Wendell’s armpits. Clear, sharp eyes watched his every move, tongues hanging out in relaxed expression.

“Those aren’t dogs,” Wendell breathed out cautiously, “they’re horses!”

Silas chuckled and put a hand on the smaller of the two dogs. “This is Tam,” then he nodded at the larger, “and you’ve already met her little boy, Mouse. He’s the one who gave you the nudge as you jumped. Though why he didn’t bite your leg off is beyond me.” The old man scratched his head, puzzled, “Other than Elsa and Downing here, they don’t like folk much. Lets me live a life of peace away from the local rabble.”

“Nudge?” Wendell coughed. “That…that…,” he lifted a finger, waving it at Mouse, “THING, knocked me out cold!”

Mouse tilted his head to the side and let out a snort.

Silas turned to the front door of the house, Tam rising to his side. “I agree, Mouse. Don’t care much for his complain’n, either.”

With a distasteful shake of his head, Mouse turned and followed Silas and Tam.

Wendell stood there for a long moment. “I think…I just got mocked by a dog.”

He turned to find Elsa covering her mouth with one hand again, fighting the laughter, unsuccessfully.

Wendell frowned. “I did, didn’t I?”

Downing gave his own snort and added, “Get used to it. Those two hounds are smarter than people think and smarter than some people I know.”

Threading her arm through his, Elsa led Wendell outside at a vigorous pace, Jan on their heels. “The point is that they both like you. You realize that, don’t you?” She tapped his shoulder and then pointed at the dogs swaying in front of them, “Silas raised and trained those ridge hounds to kill bear the other wolves in this forest. They are trained to protect this farm. They didn’t know you and they still didn’t bite you.” She nudged him, “That’s really impressive.”

“She’s right, Wendell,” Jan added. “I’ve seen Mouse chase off bear, wolverines, badgers and half a pack of forest wolves on his own. First time I reached out to pet him, he bit down on my right arm hard enough to pin me.”

Wendell looked back at the muscular man, “What did you do?”

Jan shrugged a shoulder, “I laid there, perfectly still, and waited until he let me go. Which was an hour later.” He chuckled, “I think he wanted me to understand it wasn’t okay for me to pet him. We weren’t friends yet.”

Wendell shook his head, “That’s just crazy.”

“Maybe. But my point is, if Mouse doesn’t like something, bad things happen.” Jan gripped his shoulder, “So the fact that he didn’t bite you? Elsa’s right, it’s impressive.”

Wendell sighed, leaning to one side until his hip popped. “Impressive? Mouse just decided to bounce my face off a tree, instead.”

As if on cue, the giant ridge hound flipped around, trotted up to Wendell and stood boldly in his path.

“Woah.” Wendell stopped short. “Uhhhhh,” he mumbled, slowwwwly lifting his hands closer to his chest. “Nice doggy.”

Elsa leaned forward and tussled the fur between Mouse’s ears. “You’re still the prettiest dog I’ve ever seen.”

…and then she walked on.

Jan stepped around Wendell, pausing by the hound. “Go easy on the kid, Mouse…you’re way out of his league.”

Mouse gave a sharp snort, but kept his attention on the Hero.

“Where are you going!?” Wendell squeaked in a less-than-heroic way.

Turning with a bounce in her step, Elsa motioned to the dog. “Looks like you two need to set some ground rules, so I’ll meet you in the shop when you’re done.” She gave him a girlish wave, “Don’t be too long, Tam likes my bread.”

Walking side by side, Jan and Elsa left Wendell to his fate.

This is not good, Wendell trembled.

A deep rumble rolled out from Mouse’s chest, his large, wet lips slowing rising to display blazing white teeth.

Wendell gulped. “Nice gigantosaurus.”