Fable 9: Wolf and the Weasel

There was once a wolf, who liked to stray from her pack. She wanted to learn about other animals. The wolves in her family pack shook their heads at her behaviour, blaming her young age for her curiosity. Though, soon enough, they trusted her to return of her own volition from her travels.

She thought, perhaps, that her difference came from how she was adopted into her pack. The pack consisted of three family units. Her family consisted of seven brothers and herself. The seven brothers were her mother's own, but she had been found abandoned before she could even open her eyes.

Her mother and one of her brothers treated her equally. The other six could be a bit…awkward about it. She called the kind brother her big brother, as he was huge.

It was on her night travels that the wolf met a weasel.

“Woah! Look at you!” The wolf exclaimed in excitement when seeing the small creature, her night vision allowing her to see it clearly.

“EEP!” the weasel quickly wiggled between some rocks making up a nearby wall.

“Wait! I will not eat you!” the wolf bounded heavily after the weasel, her eye glinting through the crack in the rocks. She could make out the quivering form of the weasel shaking in the dark.

“Get away, wolf!” the weasel squeaked.

The curious canine did not do as the weasel demanded. Instead, she took the opportunity to sniff the weasel. Her large nose sucked the air from the weasel’s hiding spot.

“You smell like a mouse, are you a mouse? Or maybe a squirrel!? Or a mink?”

“Uh, no?” the weasel replied, bemused by the wolf’s pursuit. “I am a weasel”.

“A weasel, eh? I have never met one of those!”

“Really, never?” the weasel smiled.

“No. What do you eat? Where do you sleep? What is your family like?”

“Woah, slow down!”

The weasel peaked out of his hiding place, choosing to climb the wall he took refuge in. The weasel looked down on the wolf. He seemed to think of a very clever idea before speaking.

“You help me with this one task, and I will answer all of your questions and more.”

“Really? All of them? Brilliant! Whatever it is, I will do it!”

The weasel smirked slyly.

“Well, follow me and I will show you!”

Thoughts of her pack long forgotten, the wolf bounded after the weasel as it lead her away to a nearby field, covered with yellow barley. The plant was as tall as the wolf’s nose, allowing her to see the weasel in front of her, but only just.

Together they ran for a long time until the weasel finally came to a halt. He climbed up a tree and signalled for the wolf to walk over to the base of the tree.

The wolf obliged eagerly, bounding over to where the weasel pointed. She was so looking forward to hearing more about the weasel! She wondered how he compared to his small mammal counterparts…

SNAP

Suddenly, the wolf felt her world flip upside down. In the space of a second, her hind leg was hoisted into the air. The rest of her body followed until all four paws were flailing through the air.

“Help! Weasel!” She screamed in panic.

“Hahaha! One less nasty wolf to deal with!” the weasel laughed manically.

“What are you doing?!”

“This snare was set by a farmer to protect his chickens from me and my brothers. Though we are too cunning to fall into them, we use them to capture some…bigger game.”

When the weasel finished, he was joined by several others of his kind – his brothers. They laughed together, little fangs flashing in the moonlight. The wolf felt her blood run cold.

“Stop! Why are you doing this?” her voice broke with panic.

“Still asking questions, eh? Curious wolf,” the weasel laughed, he and his cohort began to wriggle closer to the wolf, licking their lips.

“We hunt in a pack too,” he said. “Only we use our cunning as well as our fangs!”

The wolf howled, long and loud.

“It’s no use, your pack cannot hear you at this distance!” another weasel scoffed.

Together the weasels closed the distance between themselves and the wolf. They were giggling with deranged delight.

“Such a big meal haha!”

“Hehe yes, I’ve never tasted wolf before!”

“Where do we start, eh?”

The wolf felt her panic give way to hopelessness. Her curiosity had gotten her killed, no worse – devoured. She never should have left the pack.

What a terrible moral to learn - you can't trust anyone.

Suddenly, the wolf heard a howl in the distance. Her ears pricked to attention. Her pack!

She closed her eyes, the blood which had been rushing to her head since being hung upside down was stealing her consciousness. With the last of her sight, she saw the weasels' faces drop, eyes fixing on something in the distance. With the last of her hearing, she heard the paws of her family rush by. Then, with an almighty thump, she dropped back down in the dirt.

She lay for a moment, regaining her senses.

“Hey there, puppy!” her mother greeted her.

“Ve gotcha bacc” her big brother slurred through a mouthful of weasel.

She saw the rest of her pack pouncing after the weasels with fervour.

As her fear dissipated, the young wolf began to cry. Gratefulness, embarrassment, and anxiety released into her limbs.

“T-Thank you”

“Hey, don’t cry my little pup! I was always listening for your howl,” her mother reassured.

Somehow, the reassurance made the little wolf cry harder. She was so grateful for her family. Her mother licked the tears from her face.

“Come on then, let’s go home,” her mother said, trotting ahead.

“Here,” her brother said, dropping a dead weasel at her paws. The very same weasel that tricked her. She stared at it.

“Listen, don’t tell mum I told you this, but I was once tricked into a beartrap by a dormouse,” he whispered.

This broke the young wolf from her tears and sent her laughing.

“Really? You?” She chuckled, looking at her strong, tall brother.

“Yea, and the bear found it so funny he opened the trap and set me free!”

“Come on, you two!” their mother shouted from afar.

They picked up their weasels and trotted after her.

Moral: With true family, you are never alone.

A/N: Fable number 9 everyone! One more left to go! I hope you enjoyed this story!

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