Day 21: Chilly

Genre: Spooky Story Time
Universe: QuickSilver
Rating: PG-13 / TW: None
 

     “Once, on a night much like this, a young woman was living alone in a cabin deep in the woods. Her name was Christa, and she had been banished to this lonely place by her step-mother, who favored Christa’s stepsister far more. Christa’s father, who loved her dearly, would visit her during the day, but never by night, because he feared what animals also called this deep forest home.  

     Christa, however, never feared the woods. Her dear grandmother, who had been the village’s wisest woman before her passing, had taught her the rules of the forest: She was never to wear her shoes beyond the creek, always show kindness to those who came to her door, and once a day she could only take from the forest only what she could carry in a single, wicker basket.”

     The sigh Goose made was long and tired. "She's gonna mess that up, isn't she?"

     "Shhhh!" Chip held a finger to his lips.

     "Come on, you know she will. Humans are so greedy."

     “We just met her! Give her a chance!”

     William huffed in amusement as he watched the exchange while resting his chin on his steepled fingers. "May I continue?"

     "...sorry." Goose whispered.

     “I believe you’ll be happy to know that she was a very respectful person,” William went on. “When she would travel past the creek to gather the juiciest berries, she would leave her simple, worn shoes at the edge of the water. Even if whispers on the wind told her to take just one more berry, or apple, or gathered herb, she never carried more than what her basket would hold. And she was kind to anyone who called on her door, though sadly, only her father would visit her - the other people of the village were far too afraid.”

     “The night I wish to tell you about was much like this. The full moon rose and shone through Christa’s window as she sat by her fireplace, cooking soup with fresh herbs. But suddenly!” William raised a hand for dramatic effect, “It was as if the sky had vanished, as clouds gathered thick and white, bringing with them freezing rain and blustering winds that shook the poor little cabin. Yet, she was not afraid. Christa moved closer to her fire and tended her soup, doing her best to keep herself warm.”

     Goose shivered.

     “In the midst of the storm came a steady, loud knocking at her door. Christa was puzzled - no one visited her at night, and surely no one visited her during a storm! Pulling her favorite blue shawl closer to her, she opened the door just a crack to see who was outside, and gasped! A wolf, his fur soaked with the cold rain, was standing like a man just beyond her door.”

     "You, girl!" William stood up, arms raised, his 6'3 frame towering over the fire as his appearing fangs glinted in the light. You have taken much from this forest, and now you must return in kind!"

     "Eeek!" Squealed Chip as he jumped into Goose's arms. Transfixed on William's story, she could only hold onto Chip and stare at William with wide eyes.

     Pleased, William kept the momentum going. “What would you have me do? Christa asked the wolf, trying to keep the tremble from her voice.”

     “You must let me inside! the wolf demanded. Feed me and let me rest away from this horrible weather!”

     William settled back down in his seat. “It would be a lie to say that Christa was not afraid. Oh, she was. But she remembered her Grandmother’s wise advice and she allowed the wolf inside her home. She fetched her best blanket from her own bed to make one for him beside the fire. She fed him soup, and sang sweet songs as she brushed his fur. The wolf was satisfied with this, and Christa only went to sleep after she was sure that the wolf had fallen asleep himself.”

     “In the morning, the storm and the wolf had both vanished, and Christa awoke with her blanket returned to her bed. She wondered if it had all been a dream.”

     “Totally not a dream,” Chip murmured.

     “Of course it wasn’t,” William balked. “In fact, it happened twice more. Horrible storms would appear from nowhere, followed by a knock at her door and a wolf demanding shelter and food. Each time, Christa would welcome them and tend to their needs.”

     “When afternoon came after the third wolf’s visit, Christa’s father made the long walk to the cabin to check on his daughter. But when he arrived, he could not find her. He found her shoes, neatly lined by the door, and her brush and her basket… but no Christa. On the floor he found her blanket, covered in wolf fur, and expected the worst.”

     Goose put a hand to her mouth. “No! That’s not fair! She did everything right!”

     William smirked, the glint of his fangs matching his chuckle. “Oh, my poor friends, do not worry. Because as the father turned to leave the cabin, he saw the strangest sight - a grey wolf, wearing his daughter’s favorite shawl. The wolf said nothing - only stared at him for a long moment as he stood frozen in the doorway. Then, without a sound, she ran into the wood, leaving the shawl behind. The father never stepped foot in the woods again.”

     Finishing his story, William gave a flourish of a bow. Chip and Goose clapped lightly before Goose reached down to check on their cooking chestnuts. “That really wasn’t that scary of a story.”

     “I did not wish to give you nightmares on such a lovely night.”

     Goose pursed her lips. “I’m not a fraidy-cat, you know.”

     “I think our storyteller had an alternative motive.” Chip scratched his head. “The moral of the story was to always feed the wolf that visits your house.”

     “Astute as always, Chip.” William winked at him, his grin still sharp. “Are the chestnuts ready?”