Author's note: Not much here, I know, but please review! I even have a song in this chapter...as well as a mention of mushroom-shaped barns.
Chapter 2
Isabelle finally woke with a splitting headache. She tried to stand up, but could not straighten up enough to get her hands more than a few inches from the ground. She craned her neck down to look at where her hands should have been. Isabelle stared in disbelief when she saw the paws of a wolverine. She twitched her right paw; it was hers. Isabelle twisted around to see the rest of her. When she twisted around and saw her dog-like body and tail, she yelped in despair. Why had she been changed like this? Isabelle instantly regretted the harsh words she had spoken to the hag. She sprinted down the hill, crying, "Will not someone help me. This is not real. I am a girl, one of the descendants of the nobility of Gallia!" Her keen ears heard the hoof beats long before she saw the horse. When she identified the rider, she began to scream. "Father, 'tis me, Isabelle!" Lord Fernette pressed his horse onwards, holding his bow and drawing an arrow from his quiver.
Isabelle tried to reason with him. "Father, do not shoot. I am the wolf. Stop this!" He fired the arrow as Isabelle bounded away from him, over another hill and into the forest below. The horse and its rider raced after her. Perhaps becoming a wolf had given Isabelle a bit of the natural instincts and cunning of one; later, she hardly knew how she to dodge the arrows and maneuver in the brush and trails of the forest. Isabelle kept her nose low to the ground as she loped on, looking for sanctuary. She followed a track through the brambles, but could hear the rider near her still. Finally, Lord Fernette got off of his horse and was waiting, with notched arrow, for her to come out of the thicket.
Isabelle silently padded towards him, keeping within the shadows. "Father," she pleaded, "Do you not know me?"
Lord Fernette spotted Isabelle and let loose his arrow. Isabelle sobbed as she took off again, running under fallen logs and between bushes. Her father had remounted his horse and they were now parallel to her on the path. The chase went on for an eternity, until Isabelle spied a burrow to her left. Without a moment's hesitation, she dived inside.
She squeezed herself into the hole down a three-foot long tunnel and into a small open space under the ground. Loose dirt fell from the ceiling and walls when she brushed them, covering her pewter-colored fur.
Isabelle cowered, waiting for what seemed like hours. She heard her father's footsteps above and could vaguely smell that he was near. After several more eternal moments, she heard him mount his horse and ride away. Isabelle stayed hidden for a very long time after. What would she do with herself? If she had been human, she would have cried and found someone to help her, but as a wolf, what good would those things be? As a wolf, she realized, her crying came out as a howl or a whine. She thought back to her meeting with the old woman back on the path. Isabelle remembered that she had not been very kind, but had she deserved to become a wolf?
After sunset, Isabelle sneaked out of the burrow. She was half-expecting to see the old hag in the forest. "Why did you do this to me," she cried out to the trees. "I have learned much, may I be turned back…Please?" No one answered. Isabelle found a hidden spot near the roots of a tree, curled up, and went to sleep.
Isabelle woke the next morning, stretching and yawning in the chilly October air. She glanced around the forest, wondering where she was. Isabelle stood up on her feet and admired her lovely fingernails. "What? How did I become human again," Isabelle stammered, twisting around to see if she had lost her tail. "I have learned my lesson," she announced to the wood. Isabelle set off through the forest to her home, a little stiff from her night beneath the trees. The girl sang a short folk-song as she rushed home, grateful to hear the sound of her voice echoing back to her through the hills.
Today is a day of perfect sunlight
Along the daffodils so fair
The breezes seem to run light
With never any care
Enjoy this day, you younger ones,
While it still is May
For tomorrow could be dark
For now, let us vivez!
Now stop and smell the flowers
And well avoid their thorns
For no foul encounter
Shall blemish this fine morn.
Isabelle's stomach rumbled; she could not wait to get home to eat. Although taking the path up the hill from the village would be faster, Isabelle took the road up the opposite side of the hill. She wanted to avoid as many unhappy memories as possible. It was nearly midday before Isabelle had finished her long trek back to her home. For once, it was quiet and still.
"Hello," she called as she walked inside. The place was deserted, except for Jeanne, the old nursemaid, and Marie, Isabelle's three year old sister. They were sitting in the corner of the great hall that acted as the kitchen during the winter. Marie ran over to her sister and wrapped her arms around her.
"Oh, Madame Isabelle," the old nurse gushed, "we have been so worried. Your parents are searching the village for you now. Look at the dirt on your hem. You look like you spent the evening in the woods…You must have warm clothes."
"Merci, Jeanne," Isabelle smiled, "It is good to see you too. The clothes can wait. Is there any food here? I am a little faint for want of it."
"Isabelle," Marie sniffed, "I am so happy that you came back."
Isabelle patted the toddler's light blonde curls fondly, saying, "Did you miss me, Marie?" Isabelle seated herself at the table that stretched the length of the hall and set Marie upon her lap. Jeanne brought over a plate of lukewarm porridge with honey and a slice of bread and cheese. Isabelle began to stuff herself with the best food she had ever eaten. When she was full, she hoisted Marie off of her lap and went the room they shared. Isabelle shook off her dark blue overdress and butter-toned shift and put on a white linen chemise and a sea green dress of wool. The dark overdress had a low, scooped neckline so the white embroidery that covered the chemise could be seen. Isabelle also put on a lavish russet cloak and fastened it with a cloak pin shaped like an arrow. Isabelle gracefully knelt as close to the fire as she could get without singing herself and tried to answer Jeanne's bevy of questions.
"Mistress," the older woman said, re-pinning Isabelle's luxurious brown hair, "Where were you that evening. Were you captured? Why were you in the woods? Where was your cloak? What had happened? Oh, we were worried sick about you."
"I went down to the village to deliver the soup like mama asked," Isabelle began haltingly. "The people were so cold, and…I gave the girl my blue cloak. I went for a walk in the forest and got a little lost. I could not find my way back. This morning, I found the path and came home. I really do not know what happened…"
"Well, cherie," Jeanne said soothingly, "you are home now, and so you will remain."
Isabelle sighed, and waited for her parents to return. The fire and her cloak were as warm as the hottest day in summer, but they felt so wonderful after being outside in the chilly air. Isabelle nearly dozed off as she sat. Soon all the drowsy girl could see was white mist. Isabelle blinked. It was still there. "Jeanne," she said apprehensively, "why is the fire so smoky?" The white mist grew thicker until it was all that Isabelle could see. "Jeanne, what is happening to me?" She heard no reply. Her hands and feet began to twitch and grew smaller. Isabelle was forced down onto her hands and knees. After another minute, the mist faded. Isabelle was again a wolf.
"Mistress, are you alright?" Jeanne screamed, retreating with Marie to the corner and advanced again, brandishing a broom. "Out wolf, out!" She tried to herd the wolf to the door. Jeanne flung it open and cowered behind it.
"Jeanne," Isabelle padded over towards her, "'tis me, Isabelle."
"Out, wolf," Jeanne cried, smacking Isabelle on the muzzle with her broom. Isabelle ran outside, and kept running until she was among the friendly trees in the forest. She could not stay with her family half as a wolf, half as herself. Someone would mistake her for a wolf and kill her. She would never be able to explain her strange existence to her parents. Isabelle decided to go east, hoping she would find somewhere to live until she could lift her curse.
The wolf went up one of the nearby hills to take one last glance at her home. She looked back at the old, manor where her family had lived for generations, at the ramshackle village, at the fields, and at the mushroom-like barns where the laborers stored the harvest every year. All of these she left behind as she trotted away.
Isabelle walked far through the afternoon and evening. In the twilight, she found that she could see much better than she could when she was a human. Isabelle kept walking until she grew tired then lay beneath a tree, wishing that she was back in her home.