DRIFTWOOD BEGINNINGS(Susan Joyner-Stumpf) Short Fantasy-Based Story Of A Wolf And A Human
Girl Named Heather Rowe, Who Struck Up A Friendship
That Was, Needless To Say,
On The Wild Side Of Tame. Heather Was A Recluse
In The Land Of Many Summers
In The Remote Regions Of Quasar.
She Lived Deep In The Wooded Tundra
And Ravines,
Rarely Surfacing Outwards To
Civilization Except To Purchase Essentials
For Her Survival.
One Such Day, With Her Backpack Slung
Over Slender Shoulders,
She Miraculously Stumbled
Across A Snow-White Wolf With
Piercing Blue Eyes Named Aatu,
(Finnish Form Of Old High German Adalwolf,
Meaning "Noble Wolf”), From
The Sky Spirit Clan. In The Spirit Of
Seasonal Giving,
Heather, Having No Idea What To Give An Alpha
Wolf And His Extended Family Pack,
Decided To Give Him Something Of Nature,
An Exquisite Specimen
Of Ancient Driftwood, Thinking He
Would Appreciate
The Sentiment, Be Its Rightful Caretaker.
Heather Did This Also
To Show Her Utmost Respect To Gaia.
When Aatu Dropped By, As Was His Normal
Custom On His Way To Lupus Tribal Assemblies,
(Though Heather Unfortunately
Not At Home), He Entered Her Abode. He Knew
He Was Always Welcome, So Did Not Hesitate
To Go Inside for Just A Brief Interlude.
This Is The Account Of Aatu,
As He Would Have Written In Paw
From His Own View Point And
Account Upon Discovering
The Gift That His New
Friend Heather
Left Him.

~ ~



DRIFTWOOD BEGINNINGS


(Takes a sniff through the open panel screen and accidently tears around the edges due to his massive bulk. And there lay the horizontal driftwood, a scripted note carved in a fossilized Aspen Leaf, “For You Aatu, in Harvest Season of Giving.” Aatu pawed the driftwood, at first not completely assured that this could actually be for Him. He assesses the situation as safe.)

Well, this new worn driftwood artifact is quite the Conversation Piece, even for my kind. I must admit the trouble you have gone through just spells out to me that you are one of few Chosen Custodians of Nature. I do appreciate the trouble and I am also ecstatic to recognize that this is of 1660 cir. and not a replica. What a pleasant surprise. How can I say I will be forever indebted for many moons and lifetimes, at the bequeath of such a rare and extraordinary piece beyond my capability of ever returning favors for one wolf life-span. I would have to give up many first-born cubs to ever pay back such a stellar marvel. Please forgive my clumsiness upon entrance, I don’t know my own strength around material things such as your kind surrounds itself.

Brought you a little gift myself from my beloved mate, Lupe. (Opens it up). Only reason I’m opening it up is because the misses just pawed it over to me on my way out the den this morning and it’s all wrapped in twig vine and moss. I’m curious as to what she gave me to give to you. Oh my! A little delicacy - - cooked over slow sun flames, as you humans don’t do raw, I know – Fresh River Rainbow Trout wrapped in Amaranth and Vanilla leaves with Chicory Root, safe for human consumption, I promise you, topped with various wild berries and edible mushrooms. Huumm, why didn’t she offer this to me, I wonder? Our Fur Suits are fitting awfully loose these days due to vittles being scarce this time of year for wolves, but that’s okay. Anything else would have been less suitable to offer you; it’s a privilege to share what little we have, as you have so kindly and unconditionally reciprocated. I’m placing it here on the bureau and no, I don’t see those Blueberry or Corn Muffins you often leave heaped on a floral plate in case of one of my impromptu visits. That’s okay, Heather. I nibbled on some fallen honey combs off the beaten path on my way here. They were delectable and have given me much well-needed energy for my long trek ahead over Sugar Mountain Pass, alongside Montauk River. (Spins briskly away on back hind legs).

Okay, so how are you? Nice soft sounds you have emanating from inside hidden walls. How do you all do that? I noticed an arrangement of lit candles on what your species refers to as a coffee table. I find that humorous, as I always sniff for coffee foliage around this structure and never detect it. (Takes a deep whiff, soaks in the scented wax through heaving ribcage) – aha!!! Pine Wood and Patchouli. Would know it blind-folded, my muzzle buried in a pebble patch. My favorite, and you remembered that. How endearing and thoughtful of my wild, elusive tastes. There’s Patchouli Plants growing near a rolling pasture beside my den. I’ve smelled them often enough and have been pleasantly seduced beyond measure. The rest of my pack is also quite fond of this tantalizing aroma; sometimes we roll in it, next to soft clover, especially after a long day of rigorous hunting. It does the fur good, rids parasites. Oh ~ sorry (drops tongue in lieu of sigh) you wouldn’t know about that, you have skin. (Looks from side to side, up and down, emits a brief howl). All this is a nice touch. You sure know how to treat your guest-wolves proper, have to hand it to you, Winged Dreams. (Aatu’s nickname for Heather, for her love and poetic flight of boundless imagination which he greatly admired. It was a quality in her he was drawn to for its beauty and relentlessness. It took wing, like hawkwind). (Eyes scanned a left-over ham sandwich left unwrapped in bunched aluminum on the kitchen counter, but will-power kicks in the frontal lobe and saliva drool is immediately swallowed, under control. Stomach, however, continues to growl and this is aggravating more than anything else. It is actually loud enough to alarm her pet Chickadee in its gilded cage, eyeing the creature warily).

Well, I can’t stay long today. I’m expected at a very important conference over a Territorial Dispute with another Pack Clan who have been our arch-rivals for centuries. Many battles and loss of lives over a radius consisting of only fifty miles. I guess what you all consider your Wars over meaningless trivia. We all have our battles to play, and must adorn our varied Suits of Armor and become reluctant yet honorably-devoted Soldiers for a cause, to protect our homelands and the very essence of our Species. I’m leaving my Calling Card of feathers so you will know that I was here. Also a stone my talented uncle carved as supposedly a representation of my form with his curved dew claws. Accept this as a symbol rendition, wolfie pic, if you will, for keepsake and memory long after I’m gone, for you shall outlive me for many starlights. Maybe you can show this stone to other human visitors to prepare them, if ever you choose, to introduce us as your native friends. I wouldn’t mind meeting them, but I’m a rather shy wolf. And through no fault your own, as you personally are not to blame, but due to the recorded historic legends across the millennia and ages between Man and Wolf, I have major trust issues and we may not be welcomed as you would desire. I’m sad for that, as we all are, believe it or not. We’ve wanted forever to co-exist in harmony but cannot change the world but perhaps one heart at a time. Heather, it starts with YOU, my dear in kind.

So, I’m off and thanks again for your endless reservoir of kindness and generosity. It goes a long way with me, being the open-minded predator that I am of assuming not all Homo Sapiens are out to annihilate us. I tell others about you, and maybe this is the Open Door Wolf and Man have always searched and waited for. I can only hope that this is true, and perhaps the ultimate beginning of a lasting relationship. I shall call it Driftwood Beginnings in dedication to this gift from the deep recesses of your brilliant Soul, for I know that’s how deep it goes. You will never know, it’s hard for me to express, but animals DO feel emotions despite the Dogma out there that refutes such acknowledgement. Another despair that courses through our weeping blood, but that’s for another visit to contemplate. Just know that in my wildest muscles, I love you as any Wolf can. I will carefully carry this ever-precious driftwood in my fangs if I can. Know the others will be so appreciative. If I am unable to traverse with this in my solo journey, I will leave it buried in a safe glen and return for it with others to help.

Change is in the air, Heather, I feel it. One lope at a time and I think the future looks bright. Be as you are, a Winged Dreamer. Never give that up. For one day, I truly believe, those dreams will jump from your blonde head and become a Reality we all can live with. For we shall then be, as the Creator of Us All wanted, the Lamb that Lies Down with the Lion, as someday, a Hunter may take a bullet for a Wolf. Imagine that. I know you have. (Licks the driftwood softly, affectionately, with blue eyes dripping water, something he learned to imitate from Heather, having observed such a strange, yet poignant gesture). Goodbye sweet chosen one and have a pleasant evening, dearie, wherever you are, whatever path leads you away. Know always we walk as One in Sky Spirit.

(Glides glorious, noble head held high, ears alert, through the screened door; rubs up against the walls on way out, leaving the parting gift of his musky scent. Departs with tail up down her gravel driveway, wagging happily until out of view from the land of the one who sky dreams).

~

This story is affectionately dedicated to a Wolf that once shared my life, Kody (picture at top). He taught me many things, he was a “human whisperer” and his spirit, now on another plane, I feel still runs with me. Miss you Kody.


© Susan Joyner-Stumpf

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