A retelling of Sergei Prokofiev 1936 Russian children's story Peter and the Wolf, Op. 67
Despite the title as the best, if not, one of the best combat institutions for training young warriors to be hunters for the greater good of humanity, Beacon was like any other regular school. And despite the population of student being the brightest and strongest humanity had to offer as human sacrifices for that greater good, they were still regular teens. They studied, ogled over girls and guys alike, dealt with parents from time to time, and they all looked forward to the weekend. And Blake was no different.
Each character, in this story, is represented, by a different instrument…
Blake had a particularly rough week. Training session upon training session, packed with extra assignments from class, one non-combat team building exercise, and two field assessments, one of which she was sure that she and her hot headed partner had failed; she was exhausted.
The bird, by the flute; the duck, by the oboe…
Blake had long prayed for the weekend to come; all the energy she reserved for studying dying Thursday night as finally finished her assignment for Professor Port, only for her to remember there was an essay due for Dr. Oobleck and a lab report for Professor Peach. Her other reserve, used for socializing, had died long before Wednesday; Yang had been way too clingy this week and while being forced into Weiss' company for far too long. The girls were on good terms, but still had issues dealing with each other from time to time, Weiss still learning to trust a former White Fang member, and Blake learning that Weiss doesn't really mean the things she sometimes say about Faunus.
But with Saturday finally here, Weiss having went off to study in the library and Yang taking up Pyrrha's offer to train with her and Jaune, Blake was free to recharge and enjoy in her favorite pastime, reading.
The cat, by the clarinet; the grandfather, by the bassoon…
Or at least she would have if she wasn't being dragged of the Professor Ports office by her childish and fearless leader Ruby.
Sitting in her shared dorm room reading the latest edition to her growing library of books Blake was disturbed when the younger girl has returned from another grueling study session with Weiss. Seemly tired and annoyed Little Red all but threw herself on the death trap suspended over Weiss' bed, ignoring the snapping of one of the ropes. A hallowed "Hello" was all she got as the girl immediately placed on her headphones, shutting Blake out with what the Faunus assumed was rock.
A little pity for Ruby having been worked so hard by Weiss encouraged Blake to try and speak with the girl. But somewhere between asking Ruby why she seemed so upset and finding the right moment to ask her to leave Blake had stuck up another conversation about books and childhood stories, discovering the girl was actually listening to a famous childhood story Blake unfortunately never heard before but sounding vaguely familiar.
The wolf is represented by three hideous, nasty, ugly, smelly French horns. Scary; Peter is represented by the strings of the orchestra.
In her glee with having a rare one on one conversation with Blake, Ruby confirmed the story was one of Professor Port's, shared with the class on their first day. Blake could hardly contain her laugher; she assumed the tale was just a stretch, a figment of his over glorified imagination. The way he dramatized the story in class to impress his more attractive students, like Yang, had killed all the credibility it might have had. In fact, Blake wasn't sure how Ruby knew his story; the girl hardly paid attention that day.
And the rifle shots are represented by the timpani and the big bass drum!
Ruby asked if she want to hear it, and believing her leader would tell it, Blake agreed to listen. Yet here they were standing outside his office as Ruby dragged her to their professor's office, Blake protesting that hearing it from the man himself was unnecessary.
Ruby tapped on his door with three gentle knocks, and with a voice ever so loud and booming the older man swung open his door and greeted his students with a smile. "Miss Rose and Miss Belladonna, to what do I owe the pleasure of speaking with you today?"
Ruby spoke. "Well, um, Professor Port, we want to hear a story!"
"And which one would that be?" he chuckled.
"Your most famous one, the story about the Beowolf. Blake has never heard…the full story before."
The older man raised a brow as he turned his attention to the older girl in black. "Well Miss Rose, you've heard my tale thousands of times before, could you not just retell it yourself?" Without waiting for an answer, the professor walked to the far corner of his office to retrieve a pot of tea he was preparing prior to their arrival, placing it on a tray with three lacquer cups and platters. "You both are luck my fair ladies, for I was just about to have tea! Surely I have enough time to tell you of my greatest journey!" he bellowed, directing Ruby and Blake to small table near his desk, seemingly forgetting what he had said no more than ten seconds ago, or that he had told part of this tale in class.
A giggle from Ruby, and a roll of amber eyes from Blake; both girls knew Professor Port would not pass up the opportunity to brag about his adventures.
"I hope you are excited as I am for this tale of bravery against opposition!" he bellowed, pouring his two visitors as each their own cup of green tea.
"Thank you Professor", Ruby replied taking a small sip from her cup. Blake in return just nodded.
"Nonsense, I am more than happy to!" He pauses and Blake received a quiet whisper from Ruby that he was starting. "Well now, if you both are sitting comfortably, and you're all relaxed, we can begin."
Once upon a time live a young lad by the name of Peter. Peter lived in small village in the mountains of the Mistral region, where it was very cold in the winter but moderate throughout the rest of the year. The village Peter lived in was a special place, home to many brave hunters who traveled the world to slay Grimm, and farmers who lived off the fertile soil. Peter himself lived with his burly and strong grandfather, an old retired hunter who now grew cabbages; his grandfather's cat, a lazy and mischievous feline; and a goofy but fun loving duck.
Their home was a cozy shack with a small meadow that had a little swimming pool. Peter's home circled the town they lived in; the entire village and their home were surrounded by a large steel gate blocking a huge forest. It is outside the gate that the hunters of the village often went to slay Grimm, for food and to keep the village safe.
One day, on an early morning in the spring, Peter opened the tall gate that leads to his meadow and went out into the green fields to play. Today was a good day for young Peter, for today, all the children Peter's age would be tested to see if they would begin training to become hunters. Peter always wanted to be one like his grandfather and so he woke before the crack of dawn to go out into the meadow to exercise and prepare.
On a branch in the nearby big tree sat a little bird, white as snow, blue being the color of her eyes and the tips of her feathers. Peter recognized the bird as his friend, Miss White he affectionately named her.
"Hello Ms. White!" young Peter cried out, waving at he sat in the green grass.
"Hello Peter", the bird chirped gaily, flying from her branch and around his head before meeting him in the grass, though she knew the boy could not understand her. "All is quiet this morning."
With his new companion here, the two continued to play in the meadow, Miss White flying above his head and resting on his knees, while Peter preformed pushups and sit ups. Soon a tall but plump duck waddled over to the two, long were her feathers as they shined as yellow as the sun, her belly brown like dirt.
She was glad Peter left the meadow gate open; it was the perfect time of day to go out for swim in the deep pond. Laughing the duck quacked hello to Peter, which he replied with his own cheerily before turning her attention to Miss White, who had hopped over to greet her.
"And so once again the lazy duck comes out to play in the deep pond", the bird remarked, crossing her feathers and turning up her beak, "I hope you know what you are doing is dangerous."
The duck could hardly contain her laughter. "I can't tell if you hit your head one too many times flying over here, but as you can see, I'm built for swimming!"
The bird rolled her eyes. "Seriously, what kind of bird are you, if you can't fly?"
"Well what kind of bird are you, if you can't swim?" Without warning the duck dived into the pond, splashing Ms. White who fluttered about in a panic, earning a heartily laugh from Peter.
"Oh you insufferable idiot, can you be at least a little more graceful?!" the bird yelled.
"Nope, ain't my style little bird", the duck replied as she kicked about in the pond.
"Do not call me a little bird. I am more of a bird than you'll ever be."
The duck snorted. "Until you get a feather rack like these", the duck motioned to her larger than normal chest, "You ain't even half the bird I am."
"Why you—"
The bird and the duck argued and argued, Peter watching the entire exchange with delight. The duck enjoyed ruffling the bird's feathers every day she came to visit, and the bird could hardly ignore the duck. While he could not understand the words they spoke, he was sure that the duck and the bird, Miss White, were actually good friends.
As the duck and bird argued while Peter exercised, a pair of amber eyes watched from the window of Peter cozy cottage.
"Peter has done it again", a smooth and mellow voice spoke. "His grandfather has told him to never go into the meadow without permission. I better go wake the old man so he can rescue Peter and feed me."
Jumping from the stool where she watched the trio from, a black cat with a purple bow tied around her neck strutted on her velvet paws to the grandfather's room before pausing to see the open gate.
"Then again", she mewed, "I can do with a small change in the menu; a plump duck for breakfast and a small snowbird as a snack."
Slowly the black cat stalked out the tall gate and into the tall grass, circling around Peter and round the back of the bird and duck, waiting until the right moment to dash out a catch them.
The cat thought she was sneaky. "The bird is busy arguing. I'll. Just. Grab her." However, the cat's silk ribbon caught Peter's attention.
"Look out!" cried Peter. Immediately the bird flew up into the tall tree as the cat lunged, while the duck jumped out the pond to quack at the cat angrily.
"There you go again Bella! Leave the bird alone! Come pick on someone your own size!"
The cat walked around the base of the big tree and thought 'Is she worth climbing up so high? By the time I get there, she would have flown away.'
The cat then turned to the duck quacking on the shore of the pond and grinned. "But, I can easily outrun you…" Sprinting on her velvet paws, the cat mewed and dashed towards the duck. Frightened the duck waddled back and dived into the pond just as the cat lunged at her. The cat, poor little Bella, she fell right into the middle of the pond; she quickly swam up and jumped out into the grass, shivering from her fur being soaking wet.
Peter, the bird, and the duck laughed at the unfortunate cat, the birds taunting her as she shivered in the grass.
"What kind of bird are you", called Miss White from her high branch, "That you can't fly away from a foolish cat, too lazy to climb a tree?"
Catching on the bird's joke, the duck replied, "I'm the type of bird that can swim away from stupid cats, too scared to take a dive in water."
The pair laughed, with the duck making terrible cat puns as the cat lay in the grass, growling at the two. "Come swim with me kitty. The water is just purrrrrfect. Or do you pawfer to sleep in the meadow?"
Watching Bella fail in her hunt, Peter got an idea. "I must be prepared for my big test this afternoon. What better way than to kill a Grimm or two."
Dashing off the ground he sat, he raced back into his cottage and returned dressed in special combat clothes his grandfather made him: an iron chestplate and platelegs, with hard leather gloves and steel toe boots. Around his waist, he carried a belt with a few hunting supplies, and on his back his grandfather's giant Blunderaxe.
With keys to the steel gate in hand Peter opened the gate to go out into the forest. Neither the bird, nor the duck, nor the cat, noticed Peter had left.
Peter walked all around the forest looking for Grimm to kill. Carrying his grandfather's Blunderaxe on his back, Peter did not have to go very far from his home, for in a small forest clearing rested two Beowolves, one by a large tree, and another under a huge boulder.
Peter smiled with delight. 'I'll take care of the Beowolf under the rock first, and then shoot the other before he can catch me.'
Slowly he walked around the Grimm as quiet as he could and climbed the small cliff the huge boulder precariously stood on. When he got the boulder, Peter gave it a mighty shove, using his grandfather weapon to unhinge it from where it sat, and crash!
Falling back on his back, Peter heard the rock crush the Grimm to death as it howled in pain. But the commotion woke his companion, and before Peter could stand on his feet the second Beowolf was had slowly closed in on him.
As the beast swiped his claw Peter rolled out of the Beowolf's attack and quickly stood to his feet. The beast turned on his hind legs and again it swiped at Peter, who dived under the creature and ran for the Blunderaxe.
Peter was quick in grabbing the weapon but not quick enough to set it up to shoot. Instead he was forced to swing the axe in an attempt to ward off the Beowolf. With one giant swing Peter took the Grimm's ear and with another, he made a sharp cut at its torso and he pushed back with his legs to get out of the Grimm's reach.
The Beowolf howled in pain, allowing Peter enough time to stand. But he was already feeling exhausted and knew he could not keep fighting for long. In one final assault the beast lunged at Peter. Then there was a bang, almost as if someone had fired cannon. Then the Beowolf dropped before Peter's feet while smoke escaped the barrel of the gun. Peter had successfully fired a shot at the beast right in the center of its head and killed it.
Peter rejoiced in his first victory and threw the Blunderaxe on his back. Just as he bent down to cut a piece of fur from the monster's body he head a screeching howl. The gun shot must have alerted another Grimm in the forest.
"I better leave now", he declared, abandoning the Grimm and running for his hut.
Peter stumbled back to his humble home and quickly shut the steel gate behind him. Turning to his cottage across the meadow, Peter could see a very tall person inside, and knew it was his grandfather lurking about. Peter rushed back to the tall gate to the meadow but was caught by an angry grandfather, who noticed Peter was outside with his Blunderaxe.
"Peter, why are you out in the meadow?! If I have told you once, I have told you a thousand times, never go out without my permission! And not only do you go outside, but you take my weapon that you do not know how to use!"
Peter's grandfather stalked over the tall grass and in one hand snatched Peter by his collar; in his other he took his Blunderaxe. "It is a very dangerous place. If a Beowolf should come out of the forest and break past the steel gate, what would you do?"
Peter wrestled himself from his grandfather's grip and puffed his chest out. "Boys like me aren't afraid of Grimm." And how could he have been, he killed two by himself!
Grandfather scolded the boy and took him by the hand. Since Peter had been disobedient, he would teach Peter a lesson. Locking the gate and leading him home, grandfather told Peter, since he had went out into the meadow and took his Blunderaxe, Peter could not test with the other children today. He would have to wait until the summer. Peter was crushed, and pleaded with his grandfather but to no avail. Grandfather was adamant in his decision as he took the meadow keys and went into town to run errands.
However, neither Peter, nor his grandfather; the sleeping cat, the swimming duck, nor the singing bird realized that Peter had forgot to lock the big steel gate. And no sooner had Peter gone, than a big strange Beowolf come out of the forest, having followed and stalked the boy all the way home.
The large Grimm was an unusual sight. Though she had black fur like her cousins, with burning red eyes and bone like armor, the Beowolf had many streaks of crimson red running through her fur, the armor on her body metallic silver like coins or silverware.
Swift like lightning the Beowolf ran towards the open steel door, pushing it open and attracting the attention of the animals nearby. Miss White was the first to notice the Grimm and quickly flew up to the highest tree, far from the Grimm's reach. Missing the bird, the Beowolf ran towards the cat, but in a twinkling Bella ran and climbed up into the same tree, barely escaping the snarling Grimm as it jumped to bite her tail.
The duck quacked, and in her excitement, jumped out of the pond. The duck ran as fast as she could to the gate, hoping that grandfather did not lock it or that she could climb it to safety. Pumping her webbed feet and skinny legs as hard as she could, the duck flapped her yellow wings to try and take flight as the Grimm stalked her, getting closer with each step.
The Beowolf didn't need to run because the duck was much too slow. In her haste the Grimm flashed behind the duck and swallowed her in one big gulp.
Peter watched all of this behind the tall gate that separated him from the Grimm, the creature which stalked the base of the giant tree to bird and cat had gone to escape. The cat and bird hugged each other in fear as they cried.
"Well this is it!" Miss White cried out. "It is here that I am going to die. This is your fault cat! If you had woken Peter's grandfather, we'd be safe!"
Bella nervously shook her head. "I didn't even get to say goodbye to Ember. I never meant to eat her ever. I only wanted to play and make sure she wasn't being reckless. Now my friend is gone."
While the Beowolf stalked the cat and bird around the tree, Peter ran into his cottage and grabbed a pair of hard leather gloves, a strong rope, and a large net with steel thorns in the meshwork. Climbing the high gate, Peter went over the wall and into the nearest tree without touching the ground. "Fly down and circle over the Grimm's head", he called out to the bird. "Only take care that he doesn't catch you."
The bird looked at Peter, then at the cat, then back at Peter, who was making a lasso with on end of the rope and slowly letting it down.
"Are you crazy?!" she angrily chirped back. "This is insane! I will not make myself a meal for the Grimm."
Without warning Bella shoved the bird out the tree, yelling "Peter need our help. If not for him do it for Ember, our duck friend!"
The bird flew over the beast, almost touching the Grimm's head with her wings while the Grimm snapped angrily at her. The bird, while afraid, was very clever, and didn't allow the Beowolf to eat her. As Peter secured another end of the rope to the tree, the cat leaped down to taunt the beast, waving her tail in the air to provoke the monster.
The Grimm quickly sprang after Bella, but she was just as fast, and they ran towards Peter's lasso. Bella jumped through the hole with her slim body. The Beowolf follow with her head and got stuck, jumping wildly trying to get loose; but her jumping only made the lasso tighter.
Next Peter threw the net over the Grimm to trap her, inciting a fury as the beast gnawed at the net. Yet the Grimm soon found it painful to do so, as the more she chewed and struggled, the more the steel thorns in the netting cut at her exposed skin and inside her mouth. Eventually the Beowolf expended her energy, calmed down, and sat in the tall grass, licking her wounds.
Just then a pair of hunters came out of the woods and into the meadow, shooting as they went; they had been tracking the Grimm and the trail led them to Peter's home.
"Found you!" said one hunter. "Now to skin you and make some lien from your beautiful fur!"
Peter still in the tree cried out, "Don't shoot. Don't kill it! We caught the Grimm and it is too unique to kill. Help us take it into to town to the zoo, so experts can study it!"
The second hunter scratched his chin to think for a minute of two. "Okay Peter, we will do that. Go lock the steel gate my brother", he said to the hunter next to him. "We will go and borrow Grandfather's special cage to take the Grimm into town."
Locking the steel gate Peter left open, and ushering the beast into his grandfather's special cage, the group rode into town.
What followed was a triumphant procession as people gathered around to see what the hunter's brought back. Peter walked at the head. After him the hunters pulled the cage the Grimm sat in, lasso still tied around her neck. The bird and the cat at on top of the cage both excited for they assisted Peter in catching the beast. Winding up the procession was grandfather, mocking "Well, if Peter hadn't caught the wolf? What's then?"
However, the grandfather took a glance at his grandson leading the group and smiled. "No matter, I am proud. Peter Port my boy, you shall make a fine hunter."
"Thanks to my bravery, I returned to my village a hero. My grandfather forgave my earlier disobedience and allowed me to join the other hunters-in-training without the need to test. Thus began my wonderful career! Ha-ha!"
Professor Port sat his cup of tea on the table as he stood from his chair, taking a bow as Ruby clapped. He then slowly walked over to a tall bookcase in the back of his office. Plucking a book from the middle shelf he began to rummage through old discolored pages in the book, landing on one page in the beginning of the tome.
"To this day I do not know what has happened to my grandfather's duck", he stated as he made his way back to the table. "Most will say, of course you do Peter, and she was eaten. Through if one was to listen very carefully, they would hear the duck quacking inside the beast's belly, since in its hurry the Grimm swallowed her alive." On Ruby's face he could see her eyes sparkle with amusement and childlike approval; he knew this had to be her favorite story. On Blake's; however, was sheer disbelief, evident by the scowl, amber eyes seeming to be picking away inaccuracies in his story.
"I suspect the Beowolf expelled her the same way it ate her, but that would be wishful thinking." He gently laid the book on the table and pushed it in Blake direction. As the young Faunus began to speak, probably with some disapproval at the tale she quickly scanned what appear to be an old newspaper article, "The Moscow Times". Blake was no less than stunned to see the headline of the clipped out article as Ruby read it aloud: "Peter Port captures rare coated Beowolf alive, become village hero and new hunter-in-training."
Note: I've always wanted to retell this story since first making the connection to Professor Port and Peter from the Russian story, since Peter and the Wolf is one of my favorites.
For those of you who know the story, it should be pretty easy to tell what I added and changed. For those of you who don't, the story is more of less the same, but I encourage you to listen to the 30 minute composition on YouTube. There are plenty of videos of it and plenty of version of this story, including a 2006 animated short in where Peter actually frees the wolf.
I hope you enjoyed reading as I plan to retell a few more, hopefully in a more RWBY like way. Until next time.