Fearless

There is a tale going around in my village, old as time itself. It appeared one night, like a cold brisk air at the coming of winter, groaning with pain and hunger of a ferocious beast; a grand wolf, that occupies the deep nearby forests. They use it to scare children into obedience, but not even the bravest men and women take it lightly. Should you go out of your way, the wolf will catch you. Should you talk to a dark stranger, it is an evil wolf in disguise.

I know this, because I am the wolf.

Some may wonder what goes through the mind of a beast, and many cannot decide whether a beast could possess a human mind at all. Not one that lurks in the shadows, surely, not one considered being nothing but teeth and bloodthirst. I, however, beg to differ. My eyes may be adapted to the dark, my fangs may tear through flesh, my claws leave scraping marks upon the ground I walk on. But I once was human, fragile and clumsy and in bed by moonrise. I too feared the tales of horror echoing through the village streets, so what am I to do now, that the tale of horror features me?

I am forced to wonder, if nothing else, whether all the monsters I feared as a child had been like I am now. Lost, afraid, only longing for a restoration of whoever they might have been. I still hope to encounter them on my aimless wanderings and I howl at the moon each night in hopes someone would howl back at me. An instinct, other wolves would call it, should they have a sapient mind, but I call it a prayer. A prayer to no one, a cry for help no one understands, and I only desire to belong somewhere again. Old monsters have moved on, however – or perhaps, they never existed, and I am the first true monster around these parts.

A monster. What a peculiar name to call oneself. Peculiar enough to forget my own name in the process, as so many years have gone by since someone had last called me by it.

There is an addition to my tale, however, one that is never included when someone uses it to petrify children. It is a bright addition, a sunray to my world of darkness. It is one of a fearless young woman, who has looked straight into the wolf's eyes and wasn't afraid. A woman who knew how to break my curse.

I know this, because she is my savior.

I heard her before I saw her, dry branches crumbling loudly under her nearing steps as she wandered too deep into the forest. I growled into her direction, low and menacing, hoping she would understand that she was headed toward the lair of a beast and turn around the second she realized her mistake. Ignorantly, she still kept going – or maybe, she was walking with too much purpose to turn back at my warning. To evade her instead, I stalked away from my prey, a hare I had caught that I still hadn't put out of its misery. Blood drying around my mouth, I lay low behind a nearby bush just as she walked past, clad in a cloak. It was so red it burned my eyes, so red it shocked me.

Ever since I had been turned into a creature, my vision had not been quite right, you see. So many colors I had once been able to see disappeared from my wolfish eyes, making the forest I lived in pale instead of lively, and all the ripest berries yellow instead of pink. But there she was, ignorant of my presence, clad in a color I could finally recognize. Not even the blood of my wounded hare had been so bright.

I crouched down, claws digging into the dirt for leverage as she noticed my dinner. She stopped, looked down, a bright smile akin to sunshine immediately replaced for worry. She kneeled down, unsure of what to do. She wanted to help him, I knew, and despite my awe with all of her colors, I was prepared to snarl, to lung at her, to make my small dinner a feast. But then, she did something inexplicable, something that shook me beyond anything I had ever seen. She hushed the weeping hare and raised a stone, bringing it to its head with a precise strike.

"You do not deserve the pain," she told him, and my ears twitched, the sound of her voice sweet and comforting, like a blessing. Curiously, I raised myself up again, peeking over the bush to reveal myself. Startled by movement behind her, she turned around, her eyes wide as they met with mine.