Danger

The day dawned sunny and bright, and Mitley, the girl with the golden curls, ventured out early to see what adventure she could find. There was one area where she was not to go - it was called Danger, and Danger was always out of bounds. But chasing a butterfly, beautiful and hypnotizingly blue, she crossed the dark line on the forest floor and never knew it.

The wolf could smell the minute she crossed. His big nose twitched hungrily, and his eyes keened on the details of the undergrowth. It smelled like a juicy mouse, but much, much, bigger. And a little like a sparrow too. How wonderful. It had been days since his last sufficient meal.

Mitley laughed at a big spider hanging from a tree. All the spiders outside Danger were harmless. And she went walking on her merry way.

The wolf smiled in delight, hearing the tinkling laugh of something small and innocent. This was going to be so much easier than anticipated. He sat low and began to creep toward the toddling intruder.

He was close and about to pounce, when a distracting rat ran across Mitley's path and led her eyes to the dark ones shining in the bushes beside her. She screamed lightly and put her hands over her mouth. The dark eyes continued to stare at her, menacing. "Who-who are you?" she finally stammered.

The wolf sighed and twisted sinuously out of the underbrush, coming to stand beside her. He was longer than she was tall, and his dark fur matted and wild-looking. His shanks were lean, too lean. And she noticed he had a vicious scar on his cheek beside his muzzle. His teeth seemed too big for his mouth. And his mouth opened wide to reveal just how many he had as he licked his chops and yawned simultaneously. "I am the wolf," he replied, nonchalantly.

She was in Danger. That came to her very quickly. But just how it had happened didn't make so much sense. Alright then, she held herself up, she would find a way to escape. Maybe. Meanwhile the wolf was sniffing around her, his very black nose, wet and cold, touching here and there on her flesh. She shivered inadvertently. "Are you going to eat me?" she asked, querilously.

"Why yes, I believe I am," said the wolf contentedly. And smiled at her benignly. She stooped down and picked up a rock, a big one. She took one look at him, narrowed her eyes, and bashed him squarely across the nose. It hit home and he yelped, falling down on his haunches and holding the offended article in his paws. "What was that for?!?" he shouted, patting it gingerly. "You won't eat me without a fight!" she replied.
"Well, your fight won't go very far," he spat back, and was upon her in instant.
"Wait! wait!" she cried, craning her head as far away from his slavering jaws as she could. "My father can give you something much more delicious - and bigger - than me!"
He paused momentarily. "How much bigger," he asked, his dark eyes narrowing suspiciously.
"Much bigger. A deer! A roe deer!"
"Hmmm..." The wolf stepped over her and paced.
"Just follow me home, and he will give it to you."
The wolf considered further. He bowed his head. "Very well then," he said in bad temper.

He followed her home, all the way complaining. "Can't you just give me a little bite of your hand? - A finger perhaps? You smell so delicious!"
She learned to ignore it.

They arrived at the castle gate, and Mitley dawdled happily through. The dark wolf snuck after her, trying to look as small as possible against the groomed hedgerows and perfectly round, white paving stones. Everything smelt of strawberries, and he sneezed.

Entering the court, Mitley pulled open the big door with much effort. The wolf slunk behind her, not sure if he should enter or run away now, while still safe. The King was pacing madly, obviously worried about his daughter. He saw her, his face lit, and then he saw the wolf, and it darkened with fear and disgust. "Get that thing!" he commanded, his voice ringing with all the righteousness of a churchbell "Kill it!!"

Two guards came at a run, and tackled the wolf. "No!" cried Mitley, her golden curls ruffling in the wind from all the activity. "Don't touch him!" Her father came and picked her up, carrying her away. "Father, father, father! Don't hurt him! He promised he wouldn't hurt me, so I told him you would give him a reward!" Even then, she knew an exact truth might do more harm than good.

Her father looked her in the eye, "That is a dangerous beast, little girl. You shall not touch it nor shall we give it anything at all. He is to be killed, and that is all we are to do with him."

She began to cry, angry and outraged. "No!" she replied, and getting down to the ground, went to stand as close to the wolf as possible. "I promised him."

Her father looked at his precious daughter, and he looked at the hulking, panting, toothy mass that was the wolf. He sighed. "You shall be the death of me," he muttered. And with a wave of his hand, he dismissed the guards. "Let him go, but that is all we will do for him."

The wolf wheeled about, and flew from the court, Mitley looking after him, his long body running down the white of the drive, like a shadow flying from the sign. He was, no doubt, running back to Danger.

It was some years later when Mitley reentered the woods. She was off early from her lessons, and her sleepy tutor had left her to her own devices. Her hair was golden no more, her curls more waves, and her eyes darkened to a grayish blue. She was nearing a height more suitable to an adult than a child, but her step was still not sure.

The line this time was dark on her eyes, and she knew the moment she passed it. She stepped over deliberately, and waited. Took two steps and waited more. Dark eyes watched her from the woods further on. She took a deep breath, and began to walk in. In two moments, the wolf was upon her.

"You again!" he said, standing over her prone form, his jaws inches from her nose. "You lying little... girl!" he snarled.
"I'm sorry," she replied. "I came to apologize. I haven't forgotten, you see."
He snorted. "You'll be dangerous soon, you know. I can't let you leave here alive."
"What do you mean, dangerous?"
"All of you - people. You are all the same. Helpless as children, vicious when grown." He spat out the last words and stepped off her.
She struggled up to her elbows. "I'm really very sorry. I wanted to offer you the deer - but I could do nothing. When I am grown up I shall bring one here. You'll see. I'll lay a full deer right here for you to eat on my 19th birthday. In a way, you'll celebrate with me. It will be a happy birthday."
The wolf looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "And why should I not kill you now?"
She smiled a little, secret smile. "Because if you do, you know my father will never stop hunting you." She stood up. "Goodbye wolf," she said, and patted his head. He twisted around, offended and outraged. She was already walking away. He growled at her, but watched as she stepped over the dark line onto the golden green moss of her territory.

Danger was darker than ever on that day. She had a horse this time, and behind it, she was dragging a full deer, which she herself had hunted that very day. It was big, a beautiful animal, and she had killed it quickly, not wanting it to suffer. The wolf had been right. She was indeed a dangerous person. Her hair was almost dark now, and she was almost her father's full height. The seamstress complained she was too tall for the fabrics, and struggled to fit her long arms and legs in the reams from the fabrickers.

Her horse balked at the line, and she dismounted quickly, calming it, and forcing to to tow its bounty across the line. She towed it in as far as she could force her mount to go, and then, holding the tethers, cut the leather straps quickly with the small, sharp knife at her waist. Her horse shied right before she heard the sinuous, grizzled tones, "Happy birthday."

She turned around. He was walking straight toward her, his lean, long body seeming even leaner than usual. She noted his muzzle was grayer than she remembered - but his eyes just as glistening and sharp. "I kept my promise," she said, a little defiantly.

"Oh yes," he replied, "but how do I really know it's your birthday?"
She looked shocked, until she heard a husky, growling, rasping laugh.
"You're foolish to come here, though. Now go away, girl."
She gave him a nervous smile. "Well... I hope, I hope you enjoy..." she said, not really sure of herself.
He licked his chops, his mouth watering. "I will," he said. He sniffed around the large buck, and sighed in contentment. "Fresh," he smiled.
She nodded, and then turned, not wanting to see the mess as he ripped into it. "Girl," he called, low and even raspier than usual.
"Yes?" she inquired. Her horse was breathing more heavily, nervously. "May I ask one favor?"
She was looking at him full now. "Yes," she said, unsure whether to be suspicious or not.
"Give me a pat once more," he said, and bowed his head.
Her eyes widened in surprise, but she reached out her hand and stroked the fur, softer and more silky than she would have expected, between his ears. He seemed to growl low, lower than even she could hear, but there were shivers down her spine. As she moved to take her hand away, quicker than she could see, he caught it in his jaws. But he did not bite, only stared straight into her eyes as he set the hand carefully back by her side. "I will not forget," he said. And turned back to the deer.

It was always said the castle had another guard during the Queen's reign. That there was a dark shadow that came when things were most dire. Some didn't believe, but others told the tale of the enormous teeth, the deep wells of eyes, glistening with bloodthirst. When the Queen heard of the tales, she smiled a secret smile, and in thanks to the gods of Danger, offered a sacrifice across the dark line.