A few miles off the Western coast of Jotun-Heim lay the tiny islands of Shetland, a home to the ram like race known as the Faun. Off a small cliff on one of these islands, about halfway down the cliff, there is a hole. Inside this hole lived an elf like creature with the head of a wolf. This creature spent its’ nights cold and alone, huddled naked in its dirty hovel. See, even though he had never committed any crime against his fellow islanders, they had chased him into the wilderness. The only solace that the creature found in his miserable life was fishing. Every twilight he would swim out to a rock that barely peaked out of the water during high tide, and he’d cast out his line. The creature ended up throwing back most of the fish he caught since it didn’t take him long to catch his fill. One night, in the dead of winter the creature was sitting at the top of his cliff, cooking his catch from that night when he heard a rustling in the trees. He quickly covered the small fire with dirt, scampering into the bushes to hide from the attacker. The creature sat there, his copper eyes staring intently at the spot where his fire had been only moments ago, his ears twitching with every clop he heard. His breathing quickened, bordering on hyperventilation. Just as he felt his heart was about to burst a small figure with large ears and small curled horns ran out of the forest and off the cliff’s edge.
The creature jumped out of his hiding place, arriving at the edge in time to see the figure splash into the water. Without skipping a beat the creature jumped down the cliff and dove into the hole the figure had created. He swam deeper into the water, scanning his near pitch black surroundings for the figure. He finally spotted it flailing wildly on the sea floor as if it was trying to swim with rocks tied to its’ feet. He grabbed the figure, pulling it to the surface. Nearly out of breath the creature reached the thick layer of ice between him and the precious air. He dug his claws into the ice, pulling himself to the hole he had dove into from had been. The creature bumped into the frozen shore wall, but the hole was nowhere to be found. He started pounding on the ice, desperately trying to break through. The creature had never been so glad that his hands were numb as blood floated down onto his face. The only pain he could feel was the burning sensation under his rib cage, forcing himself to resist the urge to breathe.
Not willing to give up he slammed his fist into the ice, a muffled crunching sound rippling through the water. Before he realized what was happening, he was pulled out of the ice water and thrown onto the hard ground made of ice.
The creature inhaled sharply, struggling to breath, the sound of coughing ringing in his ears. Looking down at the source of the noise the creature discovered a young Faun resting in his arm. Before he could properly process this information the child was ripped from his grasp.
“How dare you run away from me you little bastard!”, an adult Faun yelled, shaking the child.
“Let ‘em g!.” , the creature coughed.
“What was that freak?” , the Faun asked, tightening his grip on the child.
“I said,” the creature continued, standing up to show his full height, towering over the Faun, “Let, ‘em, go!”
The Faun dropped the child and attempted to ram the creature. Without a second of hesitation the creature grabbed the Fauns horns and rammed his head through the ice, holding him down until he stopped struggling. He then pulled him out and threw him onto the ice.
The creature looked down at the young Faun shivering on the ground, gasping for air. He picked up and carried the child back up the cliff side and rebuilt his fire, placing the child a few feet away. The creature went back down the hill, leaving the child to lay there to be warmed by the fire. A few minutes later he returned, the adult Faun and a bowl like rock in his hands. He placed the Faun on the opposite side of the fire as the boy, and put the rock on the fire before moving the boy slightly closer to it.
The child began to drift off to sleep, but the creature shook him awake.
“Stay awake.”
The boy nodded, rubbing his hands on his chest. The creature walked over to the fire and picked up the bowls, placing it next to the fire. “Come over ‘ere lad,” the creature said, gesturing towards himself. The boy struggled to his hooves and walked the few feet to the fire, his knees buckling under him as he reached it.
The creature caught the boy, helping him to sit down before leading his fingertips into the warm water. The boy whined, trying to pull his hands away, but the creature just held them there. The boy slowly grew used to the warmth and the creature let go of his wrists. He stood up and walked down the hill, returning a few moments later with a hand knitted wool blanket. He dried the boy’s hands and wrapped him in the blanket. The boy nodded in thanks, sleep beginning to take him again.
The creature walked back over to the adult Faun, moving him closer to the fire. The young Faun watched, his eyes becoming heavy before he gave in and fell into slumber. This time, the creature let the boy rest, content with his care.
The next time the boy opened his eyes he could hear the sounds of birds chirping, and smell the smoke of a pine wood fire. The boy sat up to see the adult Faun bound by what appeared to be dried vines. The adult tried to thrash forward towards the child, but he simply fell on his face, grumbling through his gag. A slight chuckle snapped the child to attention. He looked to the cliff side where the creature was coming up the hill with a basket of fish.
“Glad the see ye up,” the creature said, picking up a few skewers resting on a rock by the fire, skewering a few fish and beginning to cook them.
“Thank you,” the young Faun said, looking up at the wolf like figure.
“Oh dun’t werry ‘bout it li’l lad, I luve fisin’.” the young Faun blinked up at the creature, not sure how to respond to that. “After ye eat we should get ye back to yer village.”
The boy nodded, glancing back at the adult Faun, “What about my father?”
“I’ll take ‘em back as well,” The creature started, “I’ll let your village decide what to do with him.”
The boy nodded again, still staring at his father. “‘E wun’t ‘urt ye again lad,” the creature said as he turned over the fish, “I wun’t let ‘em.”
“Thank you Mr....”
“Wulver,” The creature answered, “Wat’s yer name?”
“Spruce,” the boy answered as Wulver handed him a grilled fish.
The boy dug into the meat, the creature doing the same. The two of them sat there for a while, eating fish and generally enjoying each other’s company. After they had finished eating Wulver stood up, put out the fire and picked up the adult Faun, putting him on his back like a sack, “Time te go.”
Spruce nodded, standing up and looking up at Wulver.
“Well, lead the way lad,” Wulver said, gesturing to the forest.
“Oh, right.” the boy looked at the forest, breathing in deeply before clopping on. The pair walked through their forest, the sun shining in their eyes before reaching the edge of the forest where a small collection of huts gathered around a well was gathered.
“This is where I leave ye lad,” Wulver said, dropping the adult Faun to the ground.
“Thank you Mr. Wulver,” the boy said as Wulver walked back into the forest.
However the creature didn’t go away quite yet. He watched to make sure the adult Faun was properly dealt with, including giving him last rights. He also wanted to make sure Spruce was okay. When he saw that the child and his family didn’t have enough food for the winter Wulver walked back to his rock and began fishing, gathering all he could into his weaver basket, carrying it back to town, and carefully dropped the fish on the window sill. Wulver continued this for a few weeks until he overheard another family talking about how low their food storage was after a badger had gotten into it. He decided that he’d start leaving fish on their window sill as well, not wanting anyone to go hungry. As time went on the number of people that Wulver fed grew until everyone in the small village would receive fish on their window at night. In return the villagers left out clothes, blankets, and other useful objects for whoever was taking care of them. Wulver usually left these offerings, but every once in a while he’d feel compelled to take something, making sure to leave extra fish for that house. Eventually all of the people he’d begun this tradition for passed away, but he continued taking care of the town. The only difference was that he also left a cooked fish in front of a small spruce tree on the outskirts of town.
