EllieInChainz
Awake, but sleepy...
♔ Champion ♔
- Local time
- Today 9:54 AM
- Messages
- 2,905
- Age
- 33
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Gritting his teeth as he swung the notched woodcutter's axe, the boy caught only fur as the wolf leapt at him, biting several times - its yellowed teeth snapping, similarly only catching air.
The two circled each other, both looking for weakness. The Innkeeper's daughter lay behind him, bleeding from a deep bite mark on her arm. The boy had seen the deep red meat and her life's blood flowed from the wound. He had to make this quick, he had to kill the wolf or scare it off, he had to win!!!
---
"Axe face"
"Lackwit!"
"Moron!"
"Gutterpig!"
They called him these things, as he didn't have a name. At best he was called "boy," but most of the time he was referred to simply as "you".
This had always been the way, he was a war orphan after all. Found curled up on the small towns church steps in the winter snows. The village priest had taken him in of course, but his cleft lip and palate had caused revulsion in most of the townsfolk who ever met him.
The Priest had found an old woodsman who had needed help and been desperate enough to accept him. The Woodsman had always called him "boy" but had been kind in his own way, making sure the lad was warmly clothed and well fed, he showed him love in the only way he knew. He sometimes told him tales of the deep woods and creatures that dwelled there. It was all nonsense of course. Wolves were the scariest things in Norwood forest, and well, they were scary enough.
The Woodsman had lasted a few years. Enough for the boy to reach his mid-teens, to grow strong and take on the main role of cutting wood, then going into town and selling it. This is when the names had started. Of course people still bought his wood, they needed it! But there was rarely a kind word.
On the day of the Woodsman's death he had given him all of his valued possessions. A wax cloak and a notched Axe.
---
Brie was the popular girl in town. She had her mother's pretty looks and wealth, she was the Innkeeper's daughter after all. It hadn't helped today.
She had been bent over by the stream, washing the mud from her face when she had come face to face with the Wolf. Slowly backing away Brie had raised her hands in a calming gesture.
The Wolf, driven mad with hunger, had strayed too close to the village, the meal before him far too tempting. He had lurched for the girls throat, but caught her arms instead, his vicious fangs biting deep into the meat of her forearm!
---
The boy had heard the scream from where he was resting after chopping down an old Elm. He grabbed his axe and ran towards the source.
He had quickly taken in the sight of the fallen girl, scrambling backwards away from the wolf, it had opened its jaws, fangs spread and wild, deep yellow eyes intent on the girl.
The boy roared a challenge as he charged at the Wolf, hoping to scare it off. The creature wasn't giving up a meal that easily though and turned to the attack. So the dance began... Feinting and snapping, twirling, slashing, barking and shouting. Back and forth, like an epic battle of old, every second seeming like years. But in reality it was less than a minute before the grizzly melee concluded.
The boy stood victorious, panting, his notched axe now soaked in blood. His own vitae flowing from several shallow bites on his arms and legs. He checked on the girl, but she was unconscious, the blood flowing freely from her arm. Without a thought he tore his shirt to stem the flow and picked Brie up, shouldering her he almost collapsed from her weight and his own wounds. He carried her back to town, and when he staggered into the village, the hue and cry was raised.
---
A great man.
Saviour.
Wolf Killer.
Hero!
Now they all know the boy. Now no one ridicules his face. Now they all pay good money for his wood, especially the Innkeeper's daughter.
Now he has a name.
The two circled each other, both looking for weakness. The Innkeeper's daughter lay behind him, bleeding from a deep bite mark on her arm. The boy had seen the deep red meat and her life's blood flowed from the wound. He had to make this quick, he had to kill the wolf or scare it off, he had to win!!!
---
"Axe face"
"Lackwit!"
"Moron!"
"Gutterpig!"
They called him these things, as he didn't have a name. At best he was called "boy," but most of the time he was referred to simply as "you".
This had always been the way, he was a war orphan after all. Found curled up on the small towns church steps in the winter snows. The village priest had taken him in of course, but his cleft lip and palate had caused revulsion in most of the townsfolk who ever met him.
The Priest had found an old woodsman who had needed help and been desperate enough to accept him. The Woodsman had always called him "boy" but had been kind in his own way, making sure the lad was warmly clothed and well fed, he showed him love in the only way he knew. He sometimes told him tales of the deep woods and creatures that dwelled there. It was all nonsense of course. Wolves were the scariest things in Norwood forest, and well, they were scary enough.
The Woodsman had lasted a few years. Enough for the boy to reach his mid-teens, to grow strong and take on the main role of cutting wood, then going into town and selling it. This is when the names had started. Of course people still bought his wood, they needed it! But there was rarely a kind word.
On the day of the Woodsman's death he had given him all of his valued possessions. A wax cloak and a notched Axe.
---
Brie was the popular girl in town. She had her mother's pretty looks and wealth, she was the Innkeeper's daughter after all. It hadn't helped today.
She had been bent over by the stream, washing the mud from her face when she had come face to face with the Wolf. Slowly backing away Brie had raised her hands in a calming gesture.
The Wolf, driven mad with hunger, had strayed too close to the village, the meal before him far too tempting. He had lurched for the girls throat, but caught her arms instead, his vicious fangs biting deep into the meat of her forearm!
---
The boy had heard the scream from where he was resting after chopping down an old Elm. He grabbed his axe and ran towards the source.
He had quickly taken in the sight of the fallen girl, scrambling backwards away from the wolf, it had opened its jaws, fangs spread and wild, deep yellow eyes intent on the girl.
The boy roared a challenge as he charged at the Wolf, hoping to scare it off. The creature wasn't giving up a meal that easily though and turned to the attack. So the dance began... Feinting and snapping, twirling, slashing, barking and shouting. Back and forth, like an epic battle of old, every second seeming like years. But in reality it was less than a minute before the grizzly melee concluded.
The boy stood victorious, panting, his notched axe now soaked in blood. His own vitae flowing from several shallow bites on his arms and legs. He checked on the girl, but she was unconscious, the blood flowing freely from her arm. Without a thought he tore his shirt to stem the flow and picked Brie up, shouldering her he almost collapsed from her weight and his own wounds. He carried her back to town, and when he staggered into the village, the hue and cry was raised.
---
A great man.
Saviour.
Wolf Killer.
Hero!
Now they all know the boy. Now no one ridicules his face. Now they all pay good money for his wood, especially the Innkeeper's daughter.
Now he has a name.
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