Chapter One:
'I will take great care.'
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Once upon a time, in this very village, there lived a far-famed huntsman who, with his proficient way to handle a rifle, single-handedly kept the entire village fed during the harshest of winters.
He was a loner who choose to abode in the cottage closest to the woods where he would spend his days undesturbed, admiring the skins from woodlands creatures which he had hung on his walls.
However, as time passed by the man grew weary of the stuffed wolves and bears as his sole companions and decided that he should venture into the village more frequently. During his ventures, and while the sun was still blistering, he fell in love with a flowergirl and each morning he would purchase from her a single flower simply to bring a smile to her face.
A single flower soon turned into several bouquets and before the first flake of snow even hit the ground, the sound of their wedding bells engulfed the streets.
The young flowergirl moved to live with the huntsman and with her she brought a garden of blue corn-flowers to decorate the cottage's peripheral, claiming that she wanted something to serve as a reminder of her husbands brilliant eyes while he was out on his hunts.
One day while the newly-wed huntsman went to visit his dear friend and owner of the local tavern in the village, he overheard two men talking which caused his interest to pique.
'I once met a wolf who was being fooled by a fox; I took the wolf down and then tracked the fox back to its lair and brought it back likewise. Certainly, I am the greatest huntsman of the north.' bragged the man on the right.
'I once rescued a young damsel from certain death when she one day stumbled upon an entire family of bears. Certainly, I am the greatest huntsman of the entire land.' clucked the man on the left.
'I once outwitted an owl to lead me to a grand elk - the King of the Forest. Its meat alone fed this village and guaranteed its survival throughout an entire winter. Certainly, I am the greatest huntsman of all time.' the famed huntsman added to the braggarts conversation.
'Well, this sounds like a problem. Obviously there can't possibly be three huntsmen who are the greatest at the same time so at least two of you must be liars.' the barkeep, who had also overheard the conversation, noted as she delivered drinks to the trio.
'Then how about a bet to settle who is the best," the first man mused, "Tomorrow morning we all head into the woods and meet here again by nightfall and the two of us who brings back the most wimpish of quarry shall sing bardic poetry in respect to the winner until sun rises once again.
What say you?'
–
"Squall! Just what were you thinking running off on your own into the forest like that?! You should consider yourself lucky you're here right now and not in Fenrir's belly!" With her head held high and her arms crossed before her chest Edea, lovingly referred to as "Matron" by the orphans which she cared for, reprimanded the young boy standing in front of her. His cheeks puffy and tinged red from being chastised for his disobedience.
However, a pair of stinging cheeks was nothing compared to the humiliation of having the other children observe their exchange like it was an attraction at the carnival. Silently judging.
"The Wolf didn't eat me. It could of but it didn't even try to..." The young boy, Squall, muttered. His hands folded behind his back and head bent forward in shame.
"Are you telling me that Fenrir saw you!?" the woman gasped and glanced appalingly in the direction of the forest like she was afraid to find the Wolf itself standing there.
"No, It didn't see me because it never opened its eyes! But it definitly knew I was there." He looked up to meet Matron's eyes for the first time since his return, a glint of assurance in his own. "I, I don't think Fenrir is a Bad Wolf!"
"Or maybe the Wolf prefers actual meat over just skin and bones. Did you ever think of that?" It was Seifer, the oldest of the orphans, that decided to join the conversation. "Or maybe your kind just smells unappetizing. Wouldn't suprise anyone." He never knew when to keep his mouth shut.
"Seifer, don't get involved!" Matron snapped at him. "Squall, wait for me in the infirmary. We need to care for those wounds but don't believe for a second that this discussion is over with!"
As Matron walked out of sight and into the small cottage that served as their joint living quarters, the group of children dispersed; Squall obediently making his way to the infirmary which was an annex to the small shed located a short distance away from the main building and closer to the forest. There he parked himself on the sickbed, idly dangling his legs off the side as he waited for Matron to proceed her lecture.
She entered the small room shortly thereafter, carrying a wad of cotton and a translucent bottle of rubbing alcohol. Kneeling down in front of the boy, she frowned disapprovingly at the newly acquired red gash across his face.
"It didn't sound to me like Fenrir caused you any harm so am I to assume this is one of the villager's doing?" She asked as she poured some of the alcohol onto the wad, her tone of voice now much more gentle as she had taken some time to calm herself and think things through more clearly. Nothing but silence followed her wondering and she sighed in slight frustration once she realized that she wasn't going to recieve an answer. For now, she decided to drop the subject.
Squall hissed and scrunched his eyes together tightly in order to try and keep the tears at bay as Matron cautiously dabbed the cotton wad across the wound on his face, trying to be as gentle as possible while she cleansed it from the dirt and grass that threatened to cause an infection.
"You if anyone should stay clear of the forest, Squall. I know this might sound somewhat absurd but... " She soaked one of the towels in the sink at her left-hand side and began carefully scrubbing away the drying blood from the boy's face before she sighed again, as if mentally preparing herself for what she was about to say next. "...If it's true as you said, that the Wolf is good to you, and the villagers realize that you can visit the forest unscathed while they can't... I wouldn't put it past them to come to the conclusion that you and Fenrir are in some sort of collusion with each other."
Once satisfied with the state of the boy's face she held it with both hands, urging him to look her in the eye as she continued, "Don't give them more reasons to hurt you."
Squall nodded somberly. He understood the gravity of Matron's words, after all if there was anyone who could relate to what he was going through it had to be her, the difficult part was to accept them.
The infirmary door creaked and tufts of brown and hints of a petite blue dress peeked around the brink of it. "Squally? I heard you got back. Are you-" Her tiny voice, soft as cotton candy, blended into a sharp gasp when she spotted the condition of the boy's face in the light of a flickering candle. Immediatly she rushed to close the distance between them, almost stumbling over her own dress in the process.
"Ellone..."
"My goodness! What happened?! Is Squally gonna be okay?" The little girl's head rapidly looked between Matron and the boy, worry apparent in her eyes.
"I'm fine, Sis. Don't worry." He smiled at her and comfortingly squeezed her hand in his. Holding the appendage somehow always managed to soothe him.
"What happened?"
Squall felt the bed dip and glanced hesitantly at Matron who had taken a seat next to him on the bed. Suddenly fully aware of how their exchange was being scrutinized by the older woman.
"Just... Some meanies. Down town..."
Ellone covered parts of her mouth with the hand not being held by Squall. "They hurt you?! Why? Is it because you're a Sorcer-"
"Hush! We don't talk about that here. You never know who might be listening." Matron quickly intervened.
Ellone clasped her mouth with both of her hands this time. " 'm so sorry! I just... " The little girl hesitated before looking up again and her eyes locked with Squall's. "The others told me you traversed the woods... Is this true?"
Squall had to look away, refocusing his attention to a rathole in the corner of the shed, before he allowed himself to nod.
"That's dangerous, Squally! What if Fenrir had gotten hold of you!" She blurted angrily before her voice suddenly turned uncharacteristically grievous. "Promise me you won't put yourself in danger like that again. Promise me that you will stay far away from the forest from now on," She said and held out one of her fists where Squall could see it. It was closed with only the pinky poking out expectantly.
"Nothing hap-"
"Promise me, Squall."
With a sigh the boy eventually relented and gingerly hooked his own pinky with Ellone's, reluctantly engaging in her promissory ritual.
"I promise."