Tales of the Big Bad Wolf: The Red Riding Hood Arc (A Fairy Tale)

Chapter 19, Part D: The Monsters in My Backyard (cont.)

Firmly, he corrected his younger cousin.  “I am not particularly concerned about the wishes of the clan at the moment.  Rather I believe our very distant cousin’s presence would  provide some needed assistance.  She’s shrewd and knowledgeable.”

Giles smirked; the Count was implying he thought some of the clan members to be coquettish and frivolous like the foxes and troubadours they several had settled among.   “I suppose she wouldn’t need babysitting like the other women.” 

“Only a fool would attempt to suggest so,” Maximilian scolded his cousin.  “She would not take effrontery into stride.”

In that way she was very much like his grandmother. By his father’s accounts, the elder Count’s wife was strong and independent, quite capable of leading on her own without his grandfather. Even his troublesome uncles had not dared to misbehave around her.   Only his grandfather,as the head of the clan, dared tease her -- provoking her into fierce displays of temper. 

In spite of the passionate fights that would sometimes follow, they had been well suited for one another. His cunning and her strength resulted in many children while other clanmates struggled to repopulate their numbers after the last eclipse.  So decimated was the clan that what few Wolframs had been scattered across the Northernlands had to foster outsiders as sons and daughters to augment their ranks over these past one hundred years.

Wolfram’s expression sobered while he stared into the fire, crackling merrily in the hearth. 

His grandfather, as absurd or peculiar he might have been at times, was remarkably good at the task of living.  He would be proud to think of this home, completed now, and soon to be overflowing with Wolframs.  However, he would be likely displeased that his namesake had done little to contribute to the clan’s numbers.

Oblivious to his cousin’s brooding, Giles continued along in a light-hearted manner. “The only thing really missing from this would-be reunion are a few barrels of scotch and a few dozen elves.”

“We have what they left behind.”  The Count’s thoughts floated to the lions. “They are difficult to understand, but powerful in their own way.”

“I’d prefer elves. Or elven women at least,” Giles muttered to himself.  “Willful beasts, those lions.  But at least they can’t turn on you.”

Wolfram narrowed his eyes, silently acknowledging the truth his cousin spoke.  The stone creatures personified some of the purest aspects of the elves buried in this earth. They were loyal and could not be corrupted like creatures of flesh and bone, like his clan.   He did not believe his clan would ever attempt to betray him, but total darkness could make them as unstable as Giles was after long periods of transformation.

 “Any that did would have to be killed or cast into the darkness.  Remind them of this--”

The servant responded with a look of surprise.   Good tempered and lacking ambition, Giles did not understand the struggles for dominance that would occur once too many Wolframs inhabited a specific space.  If no monsters emerged for them to fight, the clan could turn on one another out of frustrations borne of that instinct for blood.