Showing posts with label wolves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wolves. Show all posts

Friday, November 5, 2021

Microstory 1750: Wolves in the Woods

Every night it’s the same thing. I’m creeping through the forest, trying to find a safe place to hide. Even though I dream of the same place every time, I don’t always remember at first what it is I’m running from. Sometimes I’m not even running from anything, but towards something good. Only later do I learn that there are wolves all around me. One is angry, one is sad. Another is guilty, and yet another is hateful. Some of them try to attack me, but mostly they just attack each other, fighting over prey. I try to keep them apart, but that usually only makes things worse. They battle it out, and whoever wins is how I’ll feel in the morning. The wolves do not merely have these feelings themselves, but represent them. It’s not just an angry wolf, but the wolf of anger, and every time it wins, I wake up angry. Of course, the wolves aren’t real, this is just my subconscious preparing me for the day ahead, upon a foundation of the days behind. I’m not angry because my anger wolf won. The anger wolf won because I’m angry. Presumably, I heard The Tale of Two Wolves when I was young, and it stuck with me in a profound way. Everyone supposedly has two wolves inside of them, fighting each other, which determine your personality. The one who wins is the one you feed. I don’t feed any of my wolves. I guess I’ve always considered that their problem. None of them has died yet, I’ll tell you that much, but honestly, the wolf of contentment hasn’t been looking too good these days. I dream of nothing but my wolves. One of my many therapists once suggested I keep a dream journal, because he figured I actually was having other dreams, but I was just so focused on the one that I never remembered the other symbolic stories. He was wrong. It is only the wolves in the woods.

I’m seeing a new therapist today who specializes in hypnosis. I’m hoping she can get into my head, and perhaps take the wolves out. It would be nice if I could dream about something not so bloody on the nose. I mean, the wolves are a metaphor, but it’s so obvious, it makes me feel like such a basic person. My subconscious mind can’t come up with something more clever—maybe something slightly more difficult to interpret? Really? Hell, I’ll take walking into school with no clothes on, or my teeth falling out, just to get some variety, even though those are still basic. The hypnotist sits me down in a chair, but after we get to talking, she decides that hypnosis is not for me. She doesn’t think it’s going to help, but she thinks maybe I can handle the problem on my own. My issue is that I have no control over the dreams, so they consume me. It’s like the wolves are deciding who I am without giving me any say. If I want to interact with them, I have to assume control. I have to learn how to have lucid dreams. She says to restart the dream journal, that it will help me, but also gives me some books which spell out some other techniques. Not all methods work on everybody, so I need to find what fits me. I read the books cover to cover, and formulate a plan. Then I go to sleep, and enter the woods. All of the wolves are in one place this time, sitting quietly in a pack, apparently waiting for my instructions. “All right, wolves,” I say. “We’re gonna do this in an orderly fashion. No more fighting for scraps. We hunt together, we dine together. Everyone gets their fair share.” From then on, I continue to have the same dream, but I’m in charge now. The wolf who wins is the one I feed? If that’s true, then I’m going to try to stay balanced, not even bothering to kill the negative wolves. I’m going to feed them all.

Monday, February 3, 2020

Microstory 1291: The Rooster and the Wolf

A wolf was walking through the woods when he came upon a farm. He was so hungry, and hadn’t found food in days, so he thought this was the perfect spot. Unfortunately, the farmer had placed traps on the edge of his property, and one of them caught the wolf before he was able to even get close. This was very early in the morning, so only the rooster was awake, patrolling the grounds. When the wolf saw him approach, he knew he had to come up with a story. If he freely admitted his intentions, the rooster would cause a ruckus, and the wolf would surely be done for. So he spun a lie about how he hadn’t even noticed the farm, that he was just passing by on his way to a watering hole, and that he had no plans to harm anyone there. As convincing as the wolf was, the rooster knew that he was lying. He did what he believed to be his job, and woke the whole farm, particularly the farmer. Well, the wolf, knowing this would be the end of him if he didn’t do something, focused all of his attention on the line he was tied up in, and gnawed it apart as quickly as he could. He didn’t make it into the treeline before the farmer managed to fire his shotgun, though, and hit him with a couple shots. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but it did damage his right ear enough to cause permanent hearing loss. And that was enough to anger him greatly. Yes, the wolf was indeed planning to invade the farm, and take some chickens. But he wasn’t going to be greedy about it. Now things were different. Now he had a vendetta, and he felt that he had no choice but to make things so much worse at the farm. At the time, he was a lone wolf, but that didn’t mean he was an omega, or that other wolves wouldn’t help him. So he gathered up all the others he could find in the area, and galvanized them into warriors. Then they attacked the farm together, and killed nearly everything there. But they left the rooster alive.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Cock and the Fox.

Tuesday, January 21, 2020

Microstory 1282: The Werewolf and the Wife

In those early days of misunderstanding, a young werewolf pup became separated from his family, and his pack. He had to grow up in the woods alone, having long forgotten where he came from, and not knowing if there were others like him. He could turn himself into a boy, sure, but he lived like an animal. Over time and with no family, this wild side of him took over, and there seemed to be no hope that he could ever live amongst others, of any kind. The regular wolves could tell that he was different, and they wanted no part of him. Years later, he was taken in by a family, and raised there with their teenage daughter. “He will only hurt you,” their neighbors would say. “It is in his nature, for he is clearly much more wolf than he is man.” But the family did not listen, and they decided to help him learn to be part of something larger than himself. While they were all there for him, the daughter was largely responsible for teaching him how to be a civilized human. The werewolf grew further, and got himself an education. He held onto his studies, and eventually made his way into academia, where he became a professor of Werewolf Sociology at a prestigious university. He married the family’s daughter, and she continued to help make sure that he did not forget his manners. This was a far cry from the naked animal-boy he was before.

This story was inspired by, and revised from, an Aesop Fable called The Cat-Maiden.

Thursday, May 31, 2018

Microstory 854: Between Man and Wolf

When I was a child, my grandmother would tell me stories of a new species that showed itself to the world when she was younger. They were hideously deformed, but a naïve girl had convinced them to reveal themselves, believing that people would treat them kindly. While no one was hurt or anything, the creatures decided it was best to go back into hiding, and eventually, the truth of their existence was transformed into legend. No one in my day believed they existed, but I was always convinced. I spent my entire life savings on a trip across the ocean, and to the Dolomiti Forest. It took me days to figure out exactly which village housed the girl from the stories. I was surprised to learn that she was still alive, but also unwilling to help me in my quest to meet the hyperintelligent Dolomiti wolves, and learn from them. So I began my search the hard way, tirelessly trekking through the forest, looking for any evidence of an intelligence, and just hoping they hadn’t move somewhere far away in order to avoid people like me. Finally I came across their encampment, and the pack that lived there. It seemed that I had merely found a group of a few dozen humans who lived amongst some very large wolves. They greeted me politely, provided me food and a place to sleep, and told stories around the fire. Of course, they told them in Italian, so I didn’t understand a word they were saying, but they sounded wondrous. Though they did not speak English either, they clearly understood that I was there to see whether werewolves were real, so they made it clear there was nothing to be found. Still, I was suspicious that the rumors could have been borne simply of a tribe who had domesticated wolves. I indicated that I was leaving, but instead circled back around to watch them in secret. I soon learned that I was right, but the reality was even more astonishing than I was told. The wolves in the camp, thinking no one else was around, could transform themselves into humans. Meanwhile, those I met as humans were capable to turning themselves into wolves. The stories were true. They were all true, and more. Smiling at my success, I left for real, respecting their wishes to remain a secret.

Years later, I was still in Italy, having fallen in love with the city of Verona, and also a man. I told no one of what had brought me to the country in the first place, or what I had ended up experiencing, yet out of the blue, he suggested we take our honeymoon in the Dolomiti Forest. Thinking there was no way we would run into the werewolves again, I agreed. What we didn’t know was that the area was experiencing a severe drought, and resultant forest fires. Many woodland creatures had died, or been forced from their homes. It was not uncommon recently to see a herd of deer on the road, or an owl in the daytime. We still wanted to go on the trip, though not so much on a honeymoon, but to see if there was anything we could do to help. We were staying in that same village again, which had actually grown since I first visited. We were eating outside when a young wolf came up. Though he was thin and malnourished, he was quite a bit larger than your average wolf. His fur was mangy and dirty, and he was obviously thinking about eating us. The only thing that stopped him was that there were two of us, and he was probably trying to find a way to incapacitate us both at the same time. He attacked me first, but since I had lived my life well-fed, I was able to knock him away from me. I yelled at my husband to run away, which he did for a few meters, but couldn’t bring himself to leave me entirely. Yet he stayed back when he saw me take a brick paver from the ground, and threaten the wolf with it. “Yes,” I said to him in Italian. “You know what this is. It can be a weapon. Show yourself.” He just growled. “Show yourself!” I yelled. “I know what you are; that you know what I’m saying.”

Cautiously, he absorbed his fur, twisted his bones, adjusted his face, and stood up. Now in human form, his sickliness was even more obvious. “Please,” he begged. “I’m just hungry.” I told him that I understood completely, and that I was perfectly happy to help. We gave him the rest of our food, then we took him back to our room, and let him sleep in the bed, while my husband and I shared the corner on the floor. My husband, the more proper of the two of us, watched in horror as the werewolf ate breakfast like an animal the next day. He had quickly accepted what this individual was, but didn’t agree with the way behaved. He said that the forest is no longer an acceptable place for him and his people to live. We were evidently going to teach him to be civilized, and if it worked, we would do the same for the rest of his pack. The wolf looked between the two of us, and seemed amenable to the idea. But then in one final surprise, he asked, “what about all the other packs?”

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Microstory 598: Group of Ambers Provide Aid Following Disaster; Form Paramilitary ‘Brigade’

In the days following the unexpected onslaught of Hurricane 905-11 on the coast of Carolina, a record number of volunteers traveled from all over the country—and even internationally—to provide aid to those in need. Hundreds of people were killed, thousands of people were injured, and millions of people suffered damage to their homes in the most damaging tropical cyclone in recent historical memory. The people who gave up their time and money to help perfect strangers who lived hours away from them are, without question, heroes. Experts believe the high number of volunteer aidsman can be attributed to the invention, and proliferation, of the home radio receiver, but this does not take away their bravery. It has shown the world that humans are probably inherently good, and that those who can help, likely will. But a special group of these people did more by taking this horrendous event, and turning it into something good. The Usonan government and its military were unable to engage in their rescue efforts in a timely manner. We are still so technologically inadvanced that organizing and mobilizing an entire national guard in times of crises is difficult, at best. Fortunately, there were those in the area who could fill in for official rescuers until they could arrive.
Roloff Hopson formed The Amber Brigade two years ago in order to create an amber community in northeastern Georgia. Though ambers have generally felt no hostility from the standard human population, many appreciate having a place they can go, knowing that everyone around them has at least this much in common. The name was meant to be more a joke, with plans to rename it based on suggestions from its then-current members, but this never happened, and they all just agreed to keep it. As it turns out, they couldn’t have picked anything better. Up until now, the Brigade has met two or three times a week at an abandoned theatre that Hopson’s late aunt had bequested to him upon his death. Hopson and his new friends, which numbered a few hundred now, were at one of these meetings when news of Hurricane Eleven broke out. A few of them immediately wanted to spring into action, and do whatever they could for the victims. These few possessed abilities that gave them each an advantage against water, wind, or debris...but they were not the only ones who wanted to take action. Soon, a dozen more followed, then another dozen, and then more...until only children and single parents remained. Nearly all of them caravanned to the most dangerous areas affected by the storm, and began rescuing people. Totals for their rescues have not yet been calculated, but it’s estimated that they saved the lives of at least as many people as they had in their own group.

For the rest of the month, the Amber Brigade continued to support the survivors of Hurricane Eleven, working in shelters, transporting people to families in other regions, and searching for anyone who may be trapped or stranded. Meanwhile, Hopson and the rest of the organization’s leadership began talks for transforming the Brigade into an actual paramilitary agency. Details have not yet been finalized, and they still have a long way to go in order to comply with all national laws, but we already know a few things. This new Amber Brigade will allow membership from anyone; including regular humans, vampirs, and werewolves. Though still to be based in Augusta, it will include chapters in multiple major cities, and be expanded on an as-needed basis. The ultimate goal of the Brigade is to create as many chapters as possible, spread out across as much of the country as possible. While the military branches of the government cannot possibly be stationed in all places, the Brigade will supplement their forces with volunteers. It will also require far less of a commitment than that of an aidsman, and be focused primarily on relief and service, rather than military strategies. In fact, Brigade leadership is currently working with government representatives in order to determine whether any military training should be added in the at all. An official announcement will be held over the radio today from the capital. New information, including the steps necessary to join, is expected to be provided at this time.

Tuesday, June 6, 2017

Microstory 597: Last Giant Dies

The shortest-living intelligent species in the world was the giant, and the ultimate consequence of this fact was realized yesterday when the last giant died following a life of heart disease, along with other health complications. Wizards first drew up the plans for giant humans centuries ago, though never actually created them, likely due to the problems they eventually endured. Unfortunately, the fairies ended up getting their hands on this information, and had no problems acting on it. The average human is about 7.5 sheam in height, with the upper limit sitting right around 10 sheam. Species that are related to humans, like elves and veratope, tend to fall within the same range. Meanwhile, werewolves and dwarves are generally shorter. Giants, on the other hand, average twice the size of the standard human, towering over the ground at 20 sheam. Prehistoric avians, of course, could get much larger than that, but they evolved with certain biological characteristics that prevented them from experiencing the same issues as giants did. The first thing to understand is that scaling up a creature does not require a linear formula. Though giants were twice the size of us, they were eight times our mass, which meant that they weighed upwards of two shemratra, which is equal to 2,080 sheamtra. This made them the heaviest beings living on land at the time. Cetaceans only survive as heavy as they are by benefiting from weightlessness perception in the ocean. This is what causes beached whales to die; their organs can’t withstand the weight of each other. Land animals do not possess this advantage, which means that giants were literally unable to move.
Giants were discovered in the Bogs of Linctavia decades ago, having apparently been left there by the fairies, which are notorious for abandoning their experiments and creations. The water and mud of the bog allowed some movement, but not an adequate amount. The giants had somehow managed to develop some kind of symbiotic relationship with the marble fintys in the area. Marble fintys are known for their evolutionary quirk wherein they never learned what their bodies were capable of consuming, which means they eat just about everything, and regurgitate anything that their digestive system can’t handle. These strange birds figured out that they could do this near the giants, and that not only would the giants not harm them, but other predators would avoid the area for fear of them. Sadly, not even this was enough to keep giants alive as their numbers experienced diminishing returns over a few short generations. The last giant was named Kirabo Endison, and his last words were, “take care of my [pet marble finty] Faven.” He was seven years old, and is survived by all of us.

Monday, April 24, 2017

Microstory 566: Experiments Increase Animal Intelligence

In a massive violation of ethics, the company UI has been performing illegal experiments on animals. Detectives of Science raided and “off the books” laboratory literally located underground two days ago. There they found a menagerie of animals of When detectives first entered the area, they knew that something was different. With all the ruckus they were created, one would have expected the animals there to be stressed out and frantic, but this was not the case. Some of them were sitting in their cages patiently, others appeared to have a look of desperation on their faces. Some even seemed to be making attempts to communicate. After some interrogation, and investigation into the lab research, the SDS learned that the facility was designed to find ways of uplifting animal intelligence. The scientists there were attempting to increase animal intelligence enough to create entire new species, supposedly so they could live amongst humans as equals. Its leader, whose name has not yet been released, had the following to say:

I consider myself neither a criminal, nor a villain...and I regret nothing. My team and I were trying to do something amazing, to create new friends, with new perspectives. We wanted to truly share this world with the other creatures here. Perhaps then we would think twice about all that we do to destroy it. Pollution, logging, overpopulation. We’ve tried to stop these, the true crimes, but never to any success. Maybe if people could talk to the animals that were being affected by this, they would start looking for better ways to live, and stop harming our beautiful planet. I cannot speak to the others, but I can tell you that this does nothing to dissuade my position on the matter. I wholeheartedly believe in the work, and I hope that someday, someone else will feel the same way, and continue pursuing my vision.
No word yet as to what will happen with the animals they have already undergone the experiments. Experts do not believe that it would be too dangerous to try and reintroduce them into their natural habitats. Even though no animal exhibits human-level intelligence, each one would have trouble acclimating to their respective traditional social hierarchies. In other terms, an enhanced goat would not be able to live with other goats, because it understands too much, and would use its intelligence in unpredictable ways. Detectives are also unsure what would happen if the enhanced began to bred with the unenhanced, or even each other. Beyond biological ramifications, would a superintelligent animal–standard animal pairing be analog to beastiality? This is an important question to explore, even if it’s decided that all animals experimented on should remain in some kind of quarantine. One of the cages was found to be compromised, with a hole leading from it, to the outside world. It is unknown at this time when it happened, but it is evident that the wolves found a way to escape captivity, and reenter the world. Another team is presently searching for them in the nearby wilderness. President of UI, Isilda Kenson had this to say about them, and the lab as a whole:

I would like to make it clear that UI does not condone the actions carried out by this renegade faction of scientists. We want to assure the public that neither the board, nor anyone in the greater organization, had any idea that these experiments were going on. We will work tirelessly with the authorities to pursue criminal charges against these rogue scientists, as well as help find the missing wolfs [sic].

So far, no charges are being brought against UI itself, but authorities are operating on the assumption that this was not actually a rogue group, and was fully sanctioned by the UI board. We will update this story as necessary.

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Microstory 502: Deformed Wolves Come Out of Hiding

Dark creatures from the woods have been reported in multiple villages all across the French countryside. Descriptions varied, but one thing these reports have in common is that the animals were all said to be wolf-life. These animals have all now come out of hiding and revealed themselves to the world. They seem to have human-like qualities as well, appearing to be some sort of cross-breed between wolves and humans. Leading philosophers are unable to come up with an explanation for their true nature, and claim that a hybrid species would be biologically impossible. Still, witnesses say that there is no denying some kind of connection, and have already begun to refer to them werewolves. The first human known to interact with a werewolf directly was a young girl named Scarlett Capello. She had this to say:

Yes, I have been taking care of my friend, Barnabas, for the better part of a month now. He and his kin are in a great deal of pain, and need a lot of attention. They agreed to come out of the shadows to ask for your help. If anyone, with any experience with animals, has any ideas, they would be greatly appreciated.
This help has apparently come in the form of a coven of witches from Namibia. This reporter was unable to have access to their rituals as witch practices are strictly private, but an inside source has revealed that the main concern now is pain management. Experts expect werewolves to have a greater lifespan than regular wolves, but one still shorter than humans. This story will be updated in later issues as more information comes in.

Tuesday, November 10, 2015

Microstory 187: Peyton Resin


A long time ago, werewolves roamed the world; one species in a very short list of those that could shapeshift. But unlike fictional depictions of werewolves, these adhered to the law of conservation of mass. Most shapeshifting is impossible, because it would require the shifter to either inexplicably lose mass, or gain mass that does not exist. One particular anomaly was able to subvert this, but those were special circumstances. For most shapeshifters, matter is folded, stretched, or other rearranged to accommodate the shift, but nothing is added or gained. This meant that werewolves appeared to be either slightly larger wolves, or relatively small humans. To the untrained eye, Peyton Resin appeared to be a shapeshifter who could turn herself into a rock. But this was not what she was doing. Like Zoey Attar, Peyton was invoking a rock from some other location, and then she was hiding herself in another dimension. She did not become the rock itself, but was merely using it in order to tether herself to this dimension. While in this state, Peyton could see everything around her, even though she did not have eyes. As her power increased, she was able to reapply this aspect of her ability to everyday life, so that she was always aware of what was happening around her, effectively giving her eyes in the back of her head. With the help of Rick, Hankford, and Flora, Peyton learned to invoke her special rocks without slipping into the other dimension. She could place these rocks at any location, and be able to remotely witness the goings on of the immediate area. Rather early on in Bellevue’s history, the four of them chose to give these rocks as gifts to other members. They would wear them around their necks, and unwittingly give Peyton access to a powerful security system. Even though this breach of security was discovered and subsequently scrapped, Peyton ended up creating the security department of Bellevue with her partner, Milo Chombers, and still placing the rocks in strategic locations in lieu of traditional security cameras. Hankford also developed an injection containing a special type of microscopic minerals of Peyton’s creation which allowed her to keep track of all members, along with their enemies, without being able to view them remotely. Peyton was a geologist by trade, having chosen the field for obvious reasons. Besides her duties in security, she continued to publish geological papers, and contributed to the progress of science in a myriad of ways.

Monday, April 13, 2015

Microstory 36: Questions or Comments

Late at night many years ago I was soaking in a bath when I noticed the label on the shampoo bottle. It had a phone number listed near the bottom for questions or comments. So I called the number. A young man named Sean answered the phone, evidently surprised to be getting a call. I got the impression that he had other things to do, and the phone usually just sat there...in case. I proceeded to tell him this fabricated story about being raised by wolves, and never having used shampoo before. I was excited to find that he knew that I was referencing a bit from stand-up comedian who was noting the irony in shampoo directions. We carried on a conversation for hours, segueing across multiple topics. We eventually discovered that we both had this unusual passion for research. We hated school, but we liked exploring and learning new things. He sounded relieved to be getting a break from the monotony of his job. Then things took a turn for him. His supervisor, who had started listening in on the call at some point, jumped in and asked me if there was anything else I needed help with. It was clear that if I wanted to talk about anything other than shampoo, I would have to look elsewhere. We hung up. The next morning, Sean called me from his home phone and admitted that he had memorized my phone number from the customer service management screen before being fired. We kept talking, and ultimately decided to go into business together. And today, we run one of the largest Question and Answer boards on the internet.