Return of the Wolf
I do not own Spice and Wolf or Holo, the Wise Wolf of Yoitsu.
Chapter 1
It was while exploring her grandfather's farm in rural upstate New York that Elizabeth Lawrence found the small cloth bag.
Hidden in a wooden box placed high up in the rafters of the old barn, it was nearly invisible beneath a deep layer of dust, cobwebs and bird feathers.
Having retrieved the small box, Elizabeth idly noticed that it was handmade and had the image of a wolf carved deeply into the top, beneath this image were four markings that resembled letters from long ago.
Retreating to her room, Elizabeth got out the book on ancient writing that her great uncle Thomas, the family historian had given her.
Turning the pages, she soon found the section titled "Runes and their meaning" There she saw a chart that gave the English equivalent of the Runic markings engraved beneath the wolf's image.
The cryptic markings spelled out H-O-L-O, Elizabeth looked at the markings and read aloud, "Holo."
A simple name that rolled gently off of her tongue. "Holo!" She repeated then paused, why did that name seem familiar somehow? Elizabeth shrugged and made a mental note to ask her grandfather about the name Holo.
Elizabeth fumbled with the small box in her attempts to open it. A few minutes later her nimble fingers had found the secret and the lid slid aside to reveal the aforementioned cloth bag.
Stiff with age, it initially defied her attempts at opening it. Suddenly, a thrill swept through her like a shock, she dropped the bag back into the box and was about to replace the lid when she hesitated. Something about the name Holo tugged at her memories.
Closing her eyes, she remembered a song her late great grandfather had sung while they were camping.
The campfire crackled, sending sparks into the cool night air while his warm voice sang of a great wolf spirit who lived in the wheat and watched over the lands, a spirit named Holo. He sang of her travels with a simple merchant who helped her to return to her ancient homeland.
Elizabeth's eyes opened suddenly and she looked down at the bag lying in its wooden box. The barn she had found it in was quite old, over two hundred and fifty years old.
The wooden beam beneath the box had been clean of dust, she realized that the box had lain hidden up there for all that time.
The Runic markings spelling out H-O-L-O were far older than the barn. She knew that her family was quite old, her late, great uncle had told her of her family's pagan roots in ancient Europe.
How long had this little handmade, hand carved wooden box belonged to her family, how many generations had kept it safe from harm?
Curiosity overpowering her fears at last, Elizabeth took up the small bag and gently teased the laced bindings until she could look inside.
Inside the bag were a couple of old coins, black with age and a small handful of wheat grains, hardly more than a tablespoonful at most.
The grains of wheat looked surprisingly fresh, even after all this time. A sudden urge came over her to take some of the grains and plant them in a secret place where they could grow tall and ripen in the Autumn sun.
She took out four precious grains of the ancient wheat, retied the bag and sealed it back inside its wooden box. Elizabeth hid the small box under her bed and planned on putting it back where she had found it in the morning.
After a hearty farmer's breakfast, Elizabeth slipped into the old barn and climbed high into the rafters again and placed the little box right back where she had found it.
She gathered up a large water jug and a Pulaski for digging and slipped out the back side of the barn.
Walking quickly, she soon reached the stream meandering lazily through the farm and filled the jug. From the stream, she walked through a small, wooded copse on the property and clambered over the large boulders that had defied earlier attempts to remove them and so, that corner of the farm had been left to nature.
Once past the last boulder, Elizabeth set down her heavy burden and surveyed her surroundings.
A flat spot beckoned to her, it was protected from the strong winds of fall, the snows of winter and the spring storms and faced the sun, it was a good spot for planting.
Taking up the Pulaski she quickly chopped up and turned over an area about two feet across. Using the Pulaski to form a low mound in the center, Elizabeth poked four holes in the freshly turned soil and dropped a single grain of the precious wheat into each hole. Then she patted the soil over closing the holes back up. Lugging the heavy water jug over, she carefully watered the freshly planted seeds and let the water soak in.
A few minutes later, she once again gave the planting a good soaking and emptied the jug at last. Elizabeth stepped back and admired her handiwork, she smiled to herself and said aloud, "Wouldn't it be fun if the wheat grew? 'Holo's wheat' I'll call it."
A small gust of the cool spring air toyed with her hair and clothing, causing her to giggle. Elizabeth picked up the jug and the Pulaski and turned to leave the small dell she had chosen for the wheat, she paused a moment and said, "I'll come as often as I can to see how you're doing. I don't live here, I'm only visiting for the spring break. This summer, I'll be here for the whole summer!"
Retracing her steps, Elizabeth stashed the jug near the stream and slipped back into the old barn to replace the Pulaski. She smiled when she thought about her uncle Ralph who had brought the odd looking tool home from fighting a forest fire, he'd liked it so he kept it.
The next morning, Elizabeth woke to the sounds of a light rain falling, the sort of rain farmers prayed for, one that would water the crops well without washing them away in a torrent of cold water.
After breakfast, she stepped out on to the porch and stood alongside her grandfather as he watched the rain falling in gentle sheets, with an occasional gust of wind making the water dance in the air. He pointed out at the nearest wheat field where the light gusts were making the young shoots sway and dance in the downpour and said,"A wolf is in the young wheat, can't you see her dancing in the rain?"
Elizabeth laughed and cried, "Grandpa! You say the funniest things, I don't see any wolf."
Ralph Lawrence senior, draped one massive, work hardened hand over his young granddaughter's slim shoulders and said gently, "It's a little early yet for you to see the wolf and your eyes haven't learned to see her. Hopefully, when you come back this summer, you'll see her dancing in the light of the August moon."
Elizabeth snuggled against her grandfather's tall form and said quietly, "This is what I love about coming here, it's like stepping back into the past being here."
Her grandfather chuckled and said softly, "This was why I never left, my brothers couldn't get away fast enough, my sisters didn't care. Oh, there was a fuss when my father left the farm to me because I wanted to stay and be with the land."
He squeezed her gently and said, "The city was not for me, I saw it during the war because I had to. When I handed my rifle back in and took off my uniform for the last time, I left with no interest in going back, ever."
Elizabeth said brightly, "You've come down for my birthdays!" "That's different, you're my granddaughter and besides, you come up here for your school breaks and summer vacation, don't you?" Replied her grandfather. "Though you do put in the same long days as I do, even though you're supposed to be on vacation!"
Elizabeth grinned up at her grandfather's grizzled face and retorted, "I like working in the soil, I was so proud of my pumpkin patch last year and loved eating the pies grandma made from them."
Her grandfather chuckled and replied, "We all enjoyed eating them! You have that green thumb and plants respond to you, you seem to have a gift for growing things."
Elizabeth smiled slightly and said, "I'm glad you liked them, mom won't let me keep a garden at home and dad just goes along with her to keep the peace."
"Well, she is your mother and you do have to respect her wishes even if you disagree with them. Once you've graduated from school and you're out in the world, you can do what you like, including keeping a garden!" Replied her grandfather as he tousled her long brown hair.