Why the Wolves Cower Before Dragons

Wolves.

They were almost impossible to kill, and the farmer who hired the five of them would be none too pleased when they turned up with only a handful of pelts after two weeks.

Dana huffed and drew Kera’s cloak around her. The night was silent but her incessant thinking said otherwise. She glowered at the hungry fire, and its intensity could rival the flames. Dana hoped she hadn’t made a terrible mistake in accepting employment with the group of adventurers. At least, that’s who Bowen, their leader, said they were when she agreed to join. Dana still had her doubts about the actual adventuring part.

“Don’t be so glum, Dana!” scolded an older man with cropped, peppered hair. His name was Draken, and he was the group’s designated trapper. ”We skinned four pelts this week. That should be enough to convince the farmer we’ve earned our money.”

“That’s hardly a grasp on the population,” countered Kera, their druid and guide. She sat down and placed her face in her hands momentarily.

“Four pelts mean four less wolves to steal sheep,” Bowen settled the matter. He stirred the coals with a bark-stripped branch.

“Fewer,” a blonde youth corrected Bowen. “Four fewer wolves.”

“I didn’t hire you to correct grammar, Einar!” the former snapped. “You could have stayed at the Mage’s College for that.” Bowen wasn’t angry at Einar, not really. He was more concerned about not meeting the agreed quota determined by the farmer and what a pay cut it would be.

In his anger, Bowen threw another cracked log onto the fire and embers flared up into the sky. A sudden gust of wind blew the smoke directly in his eyes, and he turned with a painful growl.

“We certainly have the manners of wolves,” mumbled Kera. She threw a side-eye at Bowen and added, “Next, we’ll start howling at the moon.”

A wry grin spread across Draken’s face and he turned his gaze to the fire. “It could be worse. You could have been raised by dragons,” he chuckled. “Dragons don’t like wolves, first of all.”

Dana yawned and laid down on the ground. “And how would you know that?”

The old man smiled, still looking at the flickering light. “I know a story from when I was a youngling about a lost child and a dragon, and a whole bunch of wolves…

...Long ago, when dragons still walked the world, men, dwarves, and elves lived as secluded as today, but in far fewer numbers. Food was scarce and danger plentiful.

The elves and their fairy cousins lived in the forests and forest glades, and both revered the dragons. Dwarves made their homes from the mountains. Born of stone, they claimed all places that were made of it. They, too, revered the dragons and showed utmost respect towards the paragons of strength and power.

Humans lived near water, setting up towns and villages along the shorelines of lakes and rivers. Some dwellings lay on the edge of the forests the dragons and elves called home. At times, humans would clear away the bountiful forests out of necessity, but also fear. They took care not to wander into the wood alone, fearing elves would attack in retribution for their beloved trees or wolves would carry off their children.

Dragons paid no mind to the petty squabbles of the younger races. They were the children of the first dragon, Tiamara, Mother of Chaos, and the world. That is, until one day a she-dragon discovered a child in the woods and did not know what it was.

“What are you, little thing?” asked the bemused dragon in a soft rumble. She stretched a blue-grey serpentine neck around a tree to peer down at the small creature playing with sticks under a tree, surrounded by many white flowers. It stared up at the she-dragon with wide eyes of brown. They were the color of most animal excrement, the dragon thought.

“You are not prey, for you do not run. Nor do you have small hairs covering your body or hardened sproutings from your head. You are no animal. An elfling, perhaps?” The dragon’s great eye blinked once, and in doing so a small cloudy film slid over the eye from left to right before the lid itself.

The small creature’s mouth was agape in awe, and tiny hands reached out to touch the dragon’s eye. She drew her head away with a sharp shake, incredulous that something would be so foolish to touch a dragon’s face. Or brave…

“I’m Anna!” announced the tiny creature happily, “and I’m four!” The little …Anna… giggled with laughter and clapped their hands excitedly as if the dragon had performed for the small creature’s benefit.

“Where are you from, Anna?” asked the dragon after looking around for others like her.

Anna stood up and grabbed the sides of what the dragon assumed was called clothing. She started swaying in place, saying, “I’m Anna. And I’m four. And I’m a girl. And you look funny!” Anna became distracted by the flowers and sat down, digging in the dirt shortly after with small twigs.

The dragon observed a careful inspection of dirt before Anna ate some. “She plays in the dirt as if born so, and then eats the earth,” the dragon mused to herself. “You must be a lost dwarfling!” she exclaimed as if solving some mystery.

“Shhh!” Anna said in child-like anger. “I’m hiding from wolves,” she announced. “Mamma said to hide. I’m hiding with my flower friends!”

“Where is your eggmother now?” the dragon asked the little girl who only shrugged and continued to tear up grasses.

The dragon considered that the forest could be a dangerous place for small things, especially if they were alone. She also was certain the small-child-who-was-a-dwarf had wandered too far from her fortress. “Come little dwarfling. We must away to the mountains of your people,” she finally decided and extended a five-clawed hand toward the little girl. Anna hopped on immediately and only laughed as the dragon hobbled towards a deep gorge with her remaining three legs.

And so the great she-dragon, who longed for egglings of her own, decided on returning her newfound charge to their rightful people. Gliding through the gorge and over the valleys below, the dragon could make out the sounds of the little dwarfling whooping in delight at the rush of the wind. Joy flooded the dragon’s heart upon hearing the little one’s excitement, and she soared over trees and rivers until they reached the far end of the gorge and home of the dwarves.

Her two hindlegs were barely upon the earth before calling out, “I am a Child of the Sky come to return that which you have lost.” Two enormous chiseled doors appeared in the rockface and slowly opened with a scraping rumble. Armored guards, six in two lines, marched outwards and positioned themselves in a semi-circle at the entrance to the caverns.

“I greet you in the name of the Hearthfire-Under-the-Stone,” said a dwarf in the front of one of the lines. “What have you to return to us, Child of Sky?” he asked.

“I bring you a dwarfling lost in my forests,” the dragon replied and dipped forward to allow Anna to the ground.

“Hi. I’m Anna!” the little girl excitedly waved.

The dwarf, taken aback, bent over to inspect the child. Anna was smaller than him, even. “This is a ‘dwarfling’ you called it?”

“Surely it is of your people. I found it eating the dirt amidst playtime.”

“Aye, it is a ‘child’ we call it, but this is no dwarf.”

Anna looked up at the dwarf awestruck. She took notice of the dwarf’s long, braided red beard and started playing with it. He did not like that and chided her. “Every dwarf child knows not to play with their father’s beard. This is no child of ours, Child of the Sky,” he concluded. Then he added, “Perhaps she is a fairy?”

The dragon nodded and gently picked up the child. “I shall return her to her people with utmost haste.”

“Goodbye, dwarf man!” Anna called out from behind the dragon's claws.

The dragon swooped back through the gorge, and again the child in her claws laughed with excitement. Great wingbeats flew them over fields of flowers, to the glades where fairies made their homes amidst the wildflower meadows on the edge of the forest.

The dragon noticed they were but small creatures, darting around with papery wings thought dainty or flimsy to a dragon. She had her doubts about Anna being a fairy but thought it too impolite to ask. Surely, the fairies would know if this was one of their missing children?

“Keepers of the Spring Flower, I carry with me a lost child, found among the dirt and flowers. Are any among you missing?” the dragon asked the flying creatures. She placed Anna down gently, and the little girl screamed gleefully at the sight of the colorful flowers.

“No, good dragon. This is not one of ours. She is too large and did not come from a blooming flower. She must be an elf if you found her in the forest.”

And so the dragon and Anna launched back into the air and returned to the forest. The dragon landed on the ground in a clearing and placed the little child on the ground.

She laid her neck and head flat on the ground, bidding the girl to climb on top. “We walk from here, little one,” the dragon crooned. “Grasp the horns and hold on tight.”

“Oooh, pretty trees!” Anna marveled at the canopy above.

They found the elves where the clusters of trees became thicker. Great houses built far above the ground housed this great race, with bridges connecting tree to tree. Elves were in harmony with the natural world just as dwarves were to the stony earth, and their singing made the trees dance into shapes that they used as buildings while the trees continued growing without any harm.

Some trees had spiral staircases where the steps were part of the tree trunk itself. It was as if the tree sprouted thick branches wherever the steps were, and the railings were twisted in intricate knots that were covered with vines and ivy.

“Sister of the Sky and of my Heart, you honor us with your presence,” said one elf stepping from one of those staircases. He gave the traditional greeting.

“Brother of the Trees and Earth, I greet you in kind. I found this child in the forest and thought to return it to you. It is not a dwarf, and it is not a fairy. Therefore, it must be an elf,” she announced.

The elf beckoned Anna over and bent down to pick her up. The little girl yawned and curled up against the elf’s chest to sleep. He brushed her hair back over her ears and gasped quietly.

“She is not an elf, Sky Sister,” he said hurriedly.

“Not an elf? Then what is she?” asked the dragon. She was becoming irritated at bringing Anna to the wrong people for the third time.

The elf stared pitifully at the sleeping girl in his arms. “She is human…” he whispered, almost mournfully.

A human.

The dragon had heard of humans but not much was good. Humans did not sing to the trees or stone, nor did they tend to the wildflowers in the glades. They took what they could and made it into what they wished, often destroying what they had in the process. They feared the trees and those within the forest. They feared…

After a moment, she murmured, “Ah, yes. She spoke of hiding from the wolfkind…”

“How can something so innocent become so hateful?” murmured the elf at the sleeping girl. They stared at the sleeping child, considering options, but the dragon had grown attached to the little girl by now. She did not think it possible that Anna could become like others before her.

“Leave her with us, Sky Sister. I do not think we are so different in childrearing. When she is old enough, we will send her back to her people.” suggested the elf.

“No. They will not accept her just as a bird is not welcomed after it has left the nest,” cautioned the dragon. “She must be returned to her people so that she may be raised by them.”

“As you say, Sister of my Heart,” agreed the elf reluctantly.

“Humans attack from a place of fear. They fear the depths of the forest and know only ill from what they experience. This one. This…’Anna,’ does not like wolves because she has been taught to fear them. Her people fear them.”

“Why did she run into the forest? That’s where wolves thrive,” asked the elf.

The dragon shook her head. “I begin to think that children see with their hearts. They see the beauty of nature as we do. They are drawn to the flowers and the unknown but somewhere become lost not in the forest, but in their hearts when they grow. This I understand now.”

“Perhaps take her to where you found her?” he suggested.

“Let her rest a few hours. She is tired from her adventures this day.” At this, the elf laid Anna down in a bed of moss, and the dragon curled around her protectively daring anything meaning harm to her charge to come nearer.

When they awoke, Anna became fascinated by the trees and ivy. She ran around excitedly, blabbering away and running around. After some time, it was apparent that she would not have fit well into elven society regardless. A human child was too chaotic and energetic compared to the patience and stillness of the elves.

“Come along, little one. We have one last journey to take,” the dragon said, lowering her head. The girl obediently climbed into the space between the neck and head, and then they were off walking through the forest.

It was near nightfall now. Twilight had come and the light was dimming. To a dragon, visibility was no issue, but she did not realize humans had trouble peering through the darkness that crept upon them. Anna became uneasy at the slightest noise the darker it became.

Wolves howled in the distance and the dragon felt the girl shudder and crouch down on her head as if trying to hide. It broke her heart to see Anna so scared.

“You don’t like wolves, do you?” she observed. “They will not bother us, I promise you. I will protect you,” the dragon assured Anna.

“Wolfie bad…” Anna’s voice came out in a whimper.

“Wolves do not like dragons, and dragons do not like wolves.”

“Why?” asked Anna.

“We both claim the forest as ours, though wolves loathe admitting the truth that they are weaker than dragons. Even in great numbers, they are meaningless to us and will always be. Dragons are mighty.”

“Dragons are mighty,” repeated Anna, and the dragon’s heart soared with pride hearing the words. She laughed, and so did Anna in turn.

“Home soon?”

“Yes, little one. Home soon.”

Some time passed and before too long, the dragon smelled the smoke from woodfires in a nearby village. A small farmhouse came into view at the edge of the forest, and a village built upon a meadow was further downhill. The light from the stars and a bright full moon bathed the scenery in an eerie glow.

They cleared the treeline just behind the farmhouse.“Home!” whispered Anna happily to the dragon. A human came from around the side of the house carrying a stick slung across their shoulders. Clay pots hung on either side and while the dragon didn’t know what they were for exactly, she could smell the water inside them. The human did not notice the dragon at first, even with the moon’s light, so she cleared her throat politely to grab the other’s attention.

The human turned her gaze at the sound and immediately dropped the pots on the ground in response. They stood rooted to the spot, frozen in terror.

“Mamma! Mamma!” cried Anna. “I have a new friend!”

“...Anna…lise?” the human, human woman the dragon realized, was in shock. But it wasn’t that Anna was on a dragon’s head that stunned her, but that Anna was there at all.

“Do not be afraid,” the dragon told the woman. “I have not come to harm anyone but to return that which is yours.” She lowered her head so Anna could dismount. The little girl ran into her mother’s arms who embraced her with a sob.

“I thought you were dead!” The words came out muffled through the embrace, but the dragon understood. “I thought you were dead, Annalise,” the woman wailed.

The dragon observed the woman had no hair around the mouth like the dwarf in the mountains had, and her belly swelled as if she held an egg within---

“You are the eggmother,” she murmured as if confirming what was unfolding. The dragon felt something within her own heart break at seeing Anna reunited with her mother. It was unexpectedly bittersweet.

“We heard the wolves and couldn’t find her. Her father and I thought…” she trailed off. “Thank you for bringing my daughter home.” Now the woman’s face had streaks of water running down from her eyes.

“Do wolves trouble you much?” asked the dragon.

The woman, one arm still tightly around Anna, raised a hand towards two goats in a pen and then at a chicken coop. “They come closer every season. They’ve taken a goat and slaughtered all but four chickens.” Eyeing the size of the dragon, and then the goats she quickly added, “You can have this goat for payment for bringing our daughter back. Please.”

“I do not need your tribute,” she snorted. “I am a dragon, not a god.” Focusing on Anna, she said in a softer tone, “I am just glad to see this one safe. I’ve grown fond of her.” And with that, the dragon disappeared into the forest again.

The next morning, the villagers woke to find a heap of dead wolves in the village center, dropped from a great height. They had no problems with wolf attacks after that....

By the time Draken finished his story, the rest of the party was sleeping soundly except for Dana.

“It’s a shame none of us is a dragon in disguise,” her voice was glum. “Cute story, though.”

Draken got up from his place by the fire and started gathering some equipment. “And who said it was a story? Perhaps it was true all the way to the names!”

“Dragons haven’t been around for … eons, Draken,” Dana’s disappointment was blatant now. “Eons,” she echoed softly into the fire.

She glanced at him through the flames and could have sworn his eyes flickered to a different color for just a moment. Dana sat straight up and stared at him, but he had turned his back to her to grab something behind him.

“You would be surprised how little you know about the world, girl,” she heard him murmur.

A howl pierced the awkward silence between them.

He grunted and she heard, “Never did like wolves,” before he turned back around. “Nature’s calling with all this ale,” he said louder, and before she could say anything, Draken was in the dark.

Try as she might, Dana couldn’t fight sleep. She figured Draken would take first watch when he returned from the latrine pit. When she awoke with the others, they were astonished to see a pile of wolves next to the campfire.

“They won’t trouble the farmer no more.”