Francis and the Wolf
I'm not a religious person. I am a wolf person though, this is not secret to you if you follow my blog regularly. I like the story of St Francis of Assissi and the Wolf of Gubbio. It's one that teaches us that if we are willing to, it's possible to coexist with Nature and its creatures. The below story is an adaptation where I decided - because the prompt from the Daily Prompt app asked so - that St Francis is actually a young boy who decides to go investigate what this vicious wolf is about. I hope you enjoy reading it s much as I enjoyed writing it.
Francis’ mom told him to be quick. “You get your wood and come back immediately, least the wolf gets you. Don’t go wander.”
At the age of 6, Francis took the task of helping his mother seriously. It was just the two of them now after all. He wanted to find the wolf for some reason so used the wood as an excuse to go to the forest. Something told him maybe, as young as he was, he could help stop the madness. The beast’s attacks on the cattle persisted and even two men had been wounded while hunting the beast. No success though, so fear inevitably spread at incredible speed. So did the wooden fence around the village of Gubbio, the village that never slept. The men worked in shifts to make sure that while some took a rest, the others were awake either working or keeping watch.
Francis picked his basket and readied for his task. He observed the other inhabitants. Men, women or children, nobody walked unconcernedly. Alert and peeking over their shoulders, bodies slightly hunched, no inhabitant was at ease knowing of such peril lurking from the forest. He walked unnoticed though, no one saw that a child was getting out of the village on his own.
Despite his determination, Francis’ heart beats and breaths quickened as he approached the thick, dark woods. He looked everywhere for a sign of the wolf, but the creature was nowhere to be seen. But Francis knew he was around. On that right moment, he could be watching him hiding in a bush, ready to pounce at any moment. The boy dropped his basket and crouched to pick the first piece of wood, his head always raised and alert. He immediately got up and looked behind his shoulder. No signs of the wolf but a sudden feeling someone was watching flooded his body. A flock of birds cackled noisily as they fled from a tree close by. Francis swallowed hard and panted. Something had scared the birds. The wolf had to be there, stalking him and ready to attack.
He placed one more piece of wood in his basket and as he turned his head, he saw him. His tender legs failed him and he dropped as the basket fell and the wood rolled on the ground. The wolf, a big black wolf with sharp golden eyes, was staring right in his eyes, piercing through his body and soul.
“Please don’t attack me!” the boy cried, trying to get up. “I come in peace!” he tried to calm down and think, but his legs wouldn’t obey, all he could do was crawl backwards. He groped for a stick, anything that he could use to defend himself if the beast attacked.
But the wolf didn’t attack. The wolf just sat on his hind legs, his eyes always on Francis. Finally he spoke to the boy.
“Fear not, young lad. I do not attack unless I am attacked.”
Francis was panting, all his senses alert, his heart a horse galloping inside his chest. The wolf didn’t move though. Moments went by and the creature just stayed there looking at him.
“What is a child doing alone in the woods?”
“Ahm... ahm... I need wood and I wanted to find you too.”
The wolf’s ears turned back in surprise.
“Is that so? Well, let me help you pack your wood again and you shall tell me why.”
The wolf got up and placed his mouth around one of the pieces of wood that had rolled from the basket and dropped it at Francis’ feet. The boy finally calmed down enough to get up and stare back at the wolf. Could he trust him?
“Thank you…” he mumbled. “I shall get the rest.”
He grabbed all pieces again, his hands trembling still as the wolf watched him.
“Why don’t you attack me?”
“I have told you I never attack before I am attacked.”
“You have attacked the village and killed sheep, though. Why?”
“What is one supposed to do when they are hungry and there is not much food around? Yours have been hunting too much lately. There’s hardly any deer left in these lands. Am I to eat tree barks?”
Francis didn’t know why but the thought of the wolf biting barks from the trees made him laugh. A soft laughter that had the power to calm him further. The wolf turned his ears back and sat again on his hind legs.
“What about the men you bit?” the boy snapped, no more laughs, suddenly remembering the two men who had been bitten.
“They were chasing me. They would kill me if they caught me. Just like you, I don’t want to die, so I defended myself. Would you not have done the same, were it you?”
Francis sighed. That was what he needed. That was what he could use to bring peace upon his village. Of course he would kill sheep if he was hungry. Of course he would bite if he was attacked. He took his small, fragile hand to the wolf’s bulky head. It was soft, so much softer and warmer than he had imagined.
“Time for peace, wolf. Everybody in the village is afraid of you. This is why I wanted to find you.”
“Then maybe we must go talk to them? Please ask them to feed me until the deer come back. In return I will not attack anyone, cattle included.”
Francis smiled and the wolf raised his paw to place it on the boy’s palm.
“We do have a deal. Follow behind me.”
The wolf did so and walked behind Francis, the little boy shielding him when they approached Gubbio. As expected, the men yelled the moment they saw them and grabbed their sticks and other weapons, ready to kill the wolf. A few women cupped their mouths and noses with their hands when they saw Francis right behind the wolf, stifling their screams.
Francis just opened his arms, resolute, as the men approached, roaring like thunder.
“Stop. No blood shall be shed either by you or by the wolf.”
They halted, clashing against each other, sticks dropping as well as their chins.
“What can this possibly mean?” one asked, raising his weapon just in case.
“We have all been wrong. Please listen to me and we shall live in peace. The wolf means no harm.”
And he told the men how the wolf was hungry and how he promised not to attack anyone if he was fed. The men stared at each other, confused. Both Francis and the wolf watched the buzz, expecting an answer. The men didn’t sound convinced, it all sounded like some kind of witchcraft.
“Listen, I have just been in the woods and the wolf has walked with me all the way here. If he meant harm, would I have survived to be here right now talking to you?”
The men had no words against this true, powerful argument. It was indeed so. The wolf had not attacked him.
“Fine, we shall accept that deal. But if he ever attacks again, we will not show mercy.”
“That is fair.” Francis said turning to the wolf. “Do you agree?”
Just like he had done in the forest, the wolf raised his paw and placed it on Francis’ hand. That was the oath. The men panted in surprise.
The ferocious creature, or so they thought, tamed by a little boy. Francis petted the wolf and smiled.
"Go home now, little one." the wolf said as he started trotting back to the woods. "Your mother must be terribly worried and she needs wood."
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Enjoyed this story? Check my previous ones:
You Were Supposed To Be My Best Friend
Fluffy, the Spiteful Cat
Behold the Brave New World
Or my Werewolf Stories, which I post every Full Moon:
Officer Brooks' Creepy Blue Eyes
Midnight Shift at the Zoology Museum
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