A Wolf Cub
Published on HivePostify by @gabmr · Mon Aug 24 2026
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A Wolf Cub
“What is it?” Darell asked, appearing out of nowhere.
“Chicken, lamb, and pork,” I replied curtly.
“Is that what they like to eat best?” he pressed.
“As the owner of the Wolf Sanctuary, you should know that's not the case,” I said with a laugh.
“If only people knew.”
“They’re happy with moose meat,” I said, tossing the last piece of chicken into the small pack.
“Yeah, nature never makes a mistake.”
“They’ve sure been happy with you, haven’t they?”
“When there’s a full moon, we howl together,” I joked.
“But your mission as a caretaker here is over now,” Darell said all of a sudden, very seriously.
I froze. A strange, cold summer breeze blew, making the place even quieter. That night went from being ordinary to having a tense atmosphere. Darell’s gaze weighed ten tons on me, and I feared I was about to be fired. But the reality was much broader than just a work issue.
“No robot can handle that many teeth,” I stammered, sweat already running down my face.
Darell burst out laughing, then coughed for a while. He took a deep breath to say what was so important.
“I’m not firing you, Denzel, but I need your skills as a caretaker to save a very precious life,” the sanctuary manager confessed with a frown.
“Is it a Bengal tiger?” I asked, my hopes rising instantly.
“It's probably worth ten thousand times that,” he warned, “and they want her badly.”
“What the heck is it?” I asked, growing anxious.
“Dr. Kuz’s daughter, the legendary Weendy, with the emerald hair,” Darell clarified.
“I’m too old for these jokes, man. I thought you were talking about some endangered species.”
“The Sanctuary is deep in debt, and protecting that ‘girl’ might be our only salvation,” Darell confessed.
He spent several minutes explaining the context, and I realized I wouldn’t have to be the typical caretaker. Instead, I would have to be a guardian in the forests of North America, facing off against creatures and men alike until I brought the legendary Weendy to her mother’s home in a remote part of Canada.
I still remember that day. It was very foggy and cold in the Oak Forest, until a restless horse tore through that murky veil. Riding on it was a hunchbacked old man, who dismounted and introduced me to the famous Weendy, who shone like the Northern Lights in shades of green—especially her hair.
“I hope you’re fully aware of your mission,” poor Dr. Kuz told me, almost choking back tears.
“Yes, you have nothing to worry about. I may end up as bear food, but your daughter will shine even brighter once she’s up north,” I asserted, my chest puffed out.
This devoted father said goodbye to his daughter with a little kiss on the cheek. Weendy seemed to wipe away some saliva and made a strange gesture with her hand to wave goodbye. This “girl” made me laugh as much as she surprised me. She was the size of a rabbit, but she had the face of a crocodile. To the touch, she seemed fragile, but I could tell she was as tough as any of the trees surrounding us.
The journey through the great forest seemed to fly by. Days and nights passed in minutes as I talked with Weendy about her wild life spanning more than fifty years. She had loved, fled, and even killed when she found herself in extreme danger. There was probably a moment when I no longer wanted to take care of her.
“And you—have you done anything extraordinary besides taking care of me right now?” she asked me haughtily, as she danced in the air.
“Maybe a thousand things even more extraordinary,” I replied immediately, watching as Weendy twisted her mouth.
“I’ve always carried out the extraordinary act of working every day,” I added, looking up at the sky, “just as my parents taught me as a religion.”
“I see.”
“Your parents… how could they have had you?” My curiosity got the better of me.
I saw Weendy glow brightly for a moment. She sighed deeply and gave me a disapproving look.
“My mother is a crystal fairy,” she finally replied.
“But how?”
“The boundaries between human and mythical reality were broken long ago, and that’s why…”
Weendy stopped abruptly in mid-flight. Her little wings stopped fluttering so fast, while her bulging eyes stared at the treetop.
I turned slowly, bracing myself for the worst, and saw only a pair of large yellow eyes among long, dark branches that moved like cadaverous fingers, plotting something evil up there.
Very soon I saw that giant owl swooping down, claws outstretched. Faced with a winged creature as dark as night, all I could do was pull my wide pocketknife out of my pocket. But the beast’s screech was so loud that I dropped it.
The miracle of surviving that supernatural creature, five meters wide, was purely due to Weendy’s cunning. She shone brighter than ever, so much so that my eyes hurt. That light also affected the owl, but perhaps much more than it did me, for I heard a horrifying cry of pain, followed by a loud thud on the ground. The beast had destroyed itself.
Despite our exhaustion and horror, we kept walking so as not to let Dr. Kuz down.
Several paths crisscrossed, but they all seemed to lead us to the coast. From the cliffs, all the waves looked calm and majestic. Weendy was just as delighted as I was to see the day reborn among the blue sea.
We kept walking after a light breakfast. I didn’t know why I suddenly felt so heavy when I’d only had a sandwich. Weendy looked at me and pointed around: a grayish mist was slowly enveloping us.
“Where did this come from, and why is there a hill sticking out in the background?” I asked.
“I didn’t know that leaving house was so dangerous,” Weendy snorted, standing behind me.
Not long after, we confirmed that the “hill” was walking. It was on all fours, it was gigantic, and it wanted to trample us. A giant moose wanted to bury us underground. But things went from the frying pan to the fire when I saw Vince, the Old Lumberjack.
His height, ghostly appearance, torn cowboy clothes, and double-bladed axe sent chills down my spine. That legendary man knew the price of Weendy, and he’d even come with a giant to make sure he didn’t fail.
Weendy looked tearful, with a lettuce-green texture and color. I was even trembling. Our end was coming like a town-destroying storm, and there was nothing we could do.
However, in an unusual flash of insight, something in my mind convinced me to howl.
Tags: #fiction#writing#inkwellprompt#theinkwell#flashfiction#fantasy#wolves