Author's Notes: The song "I Am Chirin" comes from the English version.
Chapter 5: The Wolf in Sheep's Clothing
Are you ready? Here I come now!
Look out, world! I'm the one
Standing tall like a tree.
There's a new spirit born inside of me.
I'll be fearless. I'll be strong.
I know life is hard and long.
Don't give up, or you'll lose.
It's the strong line that I choose.
We will travel, wolf and ram,
And we'll ravage all the land.
Getting strong now. Won't be long now
Till I'm the strongest one of all!
I am Chirin!
I am Chirin!
I am Chirin!
And so it came to pass Chirin became pupil and the wolf his teacher.
Chirin's first lessons were against a dead tree as opposed to anything alive. The wolf had Chirin charge the thick tree and head butt it, which only sent Chirin tumbling backward with a terrible headache. But he did not give up. He kept charging and charging, always bouncing off harmlessly.
But in time his strength and determination grew, and eventually, with a single mighty charge, he tore right through the tree with a yell.
As soon as he landed, he spun around, huffing, and faced the wolf, who stood a distance off, watching.
Now was Chirin's chance. If he could take down a mighty tree, then surely he could take down the wolf! He charged the wolf with all his might, leapt into the air, and head butted his shoulder. But all he could do was bounce off harmlessly, just as he had been doing with the tree before.
The wolf narrowed his eyes at Chirin and took a step forward, staring down at his still form, waiting to see what he would do next.
Chirin got up, shook himself, and charged with renewed fury, his bell ringing a harmony to his battle cry. But the wolf merely leapt over him, and Chirin went tumbling to the ground when he missed his mark.
Chirin somersaulted and landed on his feet. With an angry growl, he spun around and charged again. This time he would take down the wolf!
But as he leapt at the wolf, the wolf merely knocked him away with his paw.
Chirin had never felt so tired and bruised. But he wouldn't quit now. Clamoring to his feet, he tried again. But he was so tired that he was easily knocked away and landed a few feet away from the wolf. Again he tried, and again the wolf sent him tumbling. This time when he stood up, the world was spinning, and he teetered from side to side, falling and getting up again. "Brace yourself, Chirin!" he heard the wolf scold him. "You will never defeat me like that."
I will defeat you! Chirin thought determinedly. The thought helped him clear his vision, and he saw the wolf standing in front of him. Now! He scrambled for foothold, using the last of his strength, but one strike from the wolf and his legs gave out under him. With a groan, Chirin fell onto his back.
The wolf picked him up by the wooly fleece on his back and carried him. "Knocking over trees is one thing, Chirin," he said, his voice sounding strange with his mouth full of wool, "but remember, I am a moving target."
Chirin knew nothing of what was happening until he felt cold water on his face. The wolf had placed him at the edge of their waterhole. Too tired and hurt to even take a drink, Chirin simply lay half in the water, breathing heavily.
And that was just the first day.
The wolf was right. Chirin's task was not easy. Chirin trained every day to become as strong as the wolf. And training meant fighting. He learned ever tactic, every means possible to win. He learned to do whatever it takes to overcome his opponent, that he had to defeat his adversaries at any cost. Because in the end, that was all that mattered. And when Chirin learned that, he'd taken the first step in becoming a wolf. That was the Law of Wolven Life. That was the Wolven Credo.
Their sessions were long and hard. It always began with Chirin constantly charging the wolf and the wolf maneuvering out of the way. Every now and then, Chirin would hit, but the wolf would come back just as strong with a swipe of his paw or a snap from his jaws. Sometimes he even managed to get up on the wolf's back, but the wolf always threw him off. The wolf would leap at him and snap, but Chirin learned from his charges, and he always escaped the wolf's attacks. All that was heard was the snapping, growling, the clicking of hooves, and the ringing bell.
The place where they practiced was by a sharp peak on the mountain. Chirin leaped up the peak like a mountain goat and then would jump off the top to drop down on the wolf. But the wolf would leap up to meet him, and Chirin would roll harmlessly off his back while the wolf made it to the top of the peak.
A day never passed that Chirin didn't suffer from the pain of his lessons. He was bruised and scarred all over his body. In the end, he would somehow drag himself to the waterhole and shove his head in, trying to revive himself and ignore the pain. Many times he was on the brink of dying.
But he didn't die. And, feeling Death's breath over his shoulder, he learned the ways of life in a harsh way.
In time, he grew horns, small ones that had sharp points. His speed and strength improved far beyond what he thought his little body could manage. He could leap from crag to crag up to the top of the pinnacle boulder during their lessons and leap to the next ledge across a small chasm, all with ease.
Out on the plains, he could now keep track of the wolf. There even came the day that he and the wolf could both catch a fleeing deer herd and run past it, birds flying to the air, fleeing their path. And Chirin led the way, the wolf only following behind.
But this brought Chirin no joy. He never felt joy now. He only felt the hardening of his resolve.
The time came at last when the wolf thought Chirin was ready to face real battle. He sent the horned lamb out and watched as Chirin took on four black panthers, all at once. Though very much battered after the fight, he came out victorious.
His next foe was a great brown bear. Chirin met him with terrible fury and soon sent him running, just as he had seen the wolf do once to another bear.
Whenever he attacked, the first and last sound his adversaries heard was the ringing of his bell as he charged.
Time passed during all of this training. There was more running, more leaping, more fighting. Seasons came and went. And Chirin grew. His legs grew longer and stronger. At first they made him ungainly, and he had trouble growing into them, but the wolf quickly cured his clumsiness. His face began to lengthen as well, until he had a long snout just like any adult sheep . . . or a wolf. And he used this snout more diligently then any sheep, always scenting the wind for danger or prey. His body grew lean and muscular, not soft, lumpy, and fat like the sheep he remembered of his childhood. His eyes, once round and childlike, were now slit and glowed with a fierce yellow light . . . and were very much like the wolf's piercing blue eyes. His once white fleece darkened and grew ragged with all the fighting and running he did. The cord around his neck which held his bell stretched and lengthened with his neck, keeping the bell in its place.
But the most drastic growth was his horns. His horns grew forward and curved down, the sharp points always pointed forward. Curved as they were, they were as long as his whole face and could have been far longer had they been straightened.
In three years, Chirin had changed from a determined lamb into a fearsome beast.
The day came when Chirin's training was finished. Up on the peak of the rocky mountain, the wolf watched as Chirin, now a great, hardy ram, leapt into the air and slammed his head into a falling boulder, shattering it with his horns. He shook his head in triumph and then stood before the wolf. His head was held down, bowed, but not in submission. That was the way he was apt to stand now, with the points of his horns facing forward.
Chirin faced the wolf. The wolf nodded his approval.
"Do you see it, Wolf?" Chirin began. "I am no longer a weakling sheep. Maybe I don't have fangs, but I have horns which are equally sharp and deadly. My hooves are harder than the rock. I have accepted the laws of the wild life, the laws to fight without fearing death, as has become my nature."
"I am proud of you, Chirin," the wolf answered back. "You have become a fine warrior. Even I could not turn you aside, thanks to your sharp horns."
"It is all thanks to you, Wolf," Chirin answered. "Once, I had just one goal in my life: to overcome you and kill you. The only thing I wanted was strength so I could strike down my enemy and avenge the death of my mother. You can't imagine the times I looked for the chance to kill you. But somehow I could never find one. How many times have I dreamt of that chance? But I could never make myself do it."
Chirin turned away from the wolf and looked out over the mountains before them. They could see for miles upon miles from this summit. "I was reborn in these mountains," he said. "Living here has changed the way I think about life and about you. Now you have become like a father to me." He looked back at the wolf, who was staring at him questionably, waiting for Chirin's decision. "I decided to follow you," Chirin told him, "even through Hell. And if the world you live in is a hell, then I'm willing to live there with you."
Chirin turned back to the eastern horizon, where the sun was just starting to top the peaks. "Look out there!" he told the wolf. "The forests, the mountains, the plains – it's there for us, all of it. Everything is ours!"
That is how Chirin and the wolf became such ruthless predators, the likes of which had not been known in these lands for many years. They became a team with a reputation for ruthless killing known throughout the land. They were unstoppable, charging their prey with insane recklessness. And Chirin was like a real demon when he brutally charged his prey with his powerful body. Even as he and the wolf roamed the land and the wolf chose the prey, it was often Chirin who was leading the charge. The ringing of his bell became a sound of terror for every animal within their domain.
The day came when the wolf brought Chirin to a new place to hunt: the place of his birth.
It was a stormy night in late fall, the rain coming down in sheets and lightning flashing, thunder booming. Chirin and the wolf stared down at the shed in the pasture with cold, hungry eyes, eager for the kill. Even in the darkness of the night and storm, Chirin's eyes had grown sharp enough to see the shed even in the blackness.
"It's the shed where you were born, your home," the wolf told Chirin.
"Home?" Chirin snorted. "It is not my home anymore. The only home is the plains where I hunt my prey."
"Tonight we are going to attack the shed," the wolf warned him. "Will you be able to go through with it?"
Chirin thought the question was ridiculous. He was a killer, cold and unfeeling. "Of course I will."
Another flash of lightning lit the sky with another roll of thunder. The tops of the trees waved wildly in the fury of the storm.
"There are many shepherd dogs protecting the shed," the wolf explained to Chirin. "They'll try to stop us from getting in. Deal with them and head for the shed. Kill all the sheep inside."
Chirin listened carefully, making sure he was able to follow the wolf's wise direction. He was certain there was no emotion in him. He felt nothing for these worthless sheep, who had done nothing to make anything of themselves . . . as he had done.
Another flash of lightning and clash of thunder and Chirin felt the wind shift. The wolf put his nose to the wind, as if he sensed it, too. "The wind is starting to change direction," he said. "Go now!"
Without hesitation, Chirin charged down the slope toward the shed, his head down and horns pointed out in front of him, his bell ringing like a battle cry.