Sole Wolfess and Kid
© 2022 by M. Mitch Marmel and Walter Reimer

(The Sole Wolfess and Aedith ‘Sunny’ Winterbough are courtesy of E.O. Costello. Thanks!)

Thumbnail art by  tegerio, color by  marmelmm



Part Sixteen.


"If you go to Eastness City
Be sure to wear
Some flowers in your fur. . . "

The singer was a tod-fox, of the silver-morph variety, wearing white and playing a lute as he sang. In accordance with the lyrics, he wore a crown of flowers on his head and a garland of them draped over his shoulders. Decent voice, and points in his favor for not playing a baglute. I suppose he was handsome; my desire runs towards femmes, as you know.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Oh, I’m sure that NO ONE ever SUSPECTED that, after all this time.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Shaddap.”]

Anyway, he was being followed around by a group of furs of both sexes, carrying more flower garlands and crowns that they were giving to passers-by. A few wandered over, and before I could object, I was wearing flowers.

[Note appended to manuscript: “I never heard you object, ever.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “That’s because you were offering them to me, my love.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Sweet talker.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Shaddap.”]

“Mommy!” My ears perked and I looked away from the singer as Aedith came running up, and I caught her as she nearly jumped into my lap. She’d managed to get her own floral crown, and she grinned up at me as I gave her a hug and a nuzzle. Some new-found friends, six in all, came trotting up behind her. “I was telling them about your wings!”

My ears went straight back. Everyone in Elfhame knew that I had wings, and there were Elves in the Capitals who’d seen me in flight – correction; they’d seen the Wolf Queen displaying wings, not ‘Missy Sage.’ “And what did you tell them?” I asked.

“I said you had wings,” Aedith said, “and Henry said you didn’t.” She pointed at a young otter.

He stuck his chin out defiantly at me. “Show me,” he said, and the few others with him and Aedith nodded.

I fought the urge to sniff contemptuously. Elves Don’t Lie; I shouldn’t have to prove that I had wings. Still, I thought for a moment, and hit on an idea.

[Note appended to manuscript: “I hope you didn’t hit it too hard, wolfess. It’s all alone in there.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “This is me, ignoring you.”]

I stood Aedith on her feet and got up. “Listen to me,” I said to the other children. “You’re all good, Seelie Elflets, aren’t you?” They all nodded. “I’ll show you, but this is a secret. No one in Eastness can know this – apart from you, and good Seelie Elves don’t tell secrets, right?”

They thought this over, and they all nodded. I smiled. “Good. Follow me,” and I led them behind one of the exhibition stalls. There no other adults around, so I doffed my cloak and gave it to Aedith. Facing the other children I smiled –

And manifested my wings.

All six of them went “Eala!” in hushed tones, and Henry boldly walked up and touched the tip of one with a paw.

“They – they are real,” the little otter gasped.

“Told you so,” Aedith said proudly.

I put them away and said, “Now you know a secret. Seelie Elves don’t tell other Elves’ secrets, all right?” Not wanting to be told that they were bad or Unseelie, the little ones all nodded.

As an additional inducement, I escorted them all to a candy stall and bought them some treats before they went off to play again.

[Note appended to manuscript: “Nicely done, wolfess. Of course, telling young Elves to keep a secret is like pouring sugar around a picnic to keep ants away.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Are you implying that your natural son and daughter are untrustworthy?”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “ . . . ”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “I didn’t think so.”]

After playing a bit longer, Aedith came back to me and told me that she was thirsty; I was, too, so off we went to one of the vendors for cups of magically-chilled sweetened tea. I also bought (and tucked into my Elfintory) a few toys that would come in useful when I started teaching Aedith Gramerye.

Granted, she’s a few years older than I was when I first started learning, but I think I can adapt what I was taught. When I was a little cub, the very first fundamentals were taught to me with little rhyming songs. And the tasks I was set were triggered so that if they were done successfully, something nice would happen. For example, if I correctly changed the shape and colour of a wooden block, it would trigger a cheery little tune, or the block would animate and dance.

Obviously, I’ve established that she already knows Elf-mind and might know the Voice of the Forest, although I may call on the Master to help with the latter – with the strict understanding, mind you, that there’d be no feral wasp nests. A lesson would be better received if something nice happened if she did it successfully, and I would be quite cross if he pulled a dirty trick like that on Aedith.

[Note appended to manuscript: “So would I, Westersloe.”]

[Note appended to manuscript: “Noted, [mate-precious-to-my-heart].”]

We left the flower show and the island, and retraced our steps into the central market. We’d left the plaza and I noticed that we might have someone following us. Pausing at a few shop windows, I was able to catch a look at him from the corner of my eye.

Mel, feline, maybe a head shorter than me and stout; black fur. He was dressed shabbily and sported an unlit but partially burned tube of pipe-weed in one corner of his muzzle and had a rather distressed-looking bowler hat perched on his head.

The phrase “ill-favored” from a ballad I’d heard in Albric Tor came to mind when I saw him.

Two streets later, the suspicion that he was following us turned into a certainty. I steered Aedith into a bookstore, and while my daughter looked at some of the children’s books on offer, I stepped between two sets of bookshelves and pooked.

I ended up behind the feline. Downwind, too; he stank of a lack of regular hygiene, cheap liquor and cheaper pipe-weed, and – pickles?

He hadn’t picked up on the fact that he was now being followed, and as we passed an alley I decided to act.

The feline yelped as I gripped his collar and half-dragged, half-threw him into the alley. He landed on his rear end with a grunt, and winced as he peered up at me. “Was that trip really necessary, you skinny slip of a girl?”

I raised an eyebrow. “That depends on you. Why are you following me?”

“Who said I was following you?” He scooted backward on his arse as I drew my katana. “Gee, touchy, aren’t you?”

“The fur who gave me this told me that the maker said it was capable of cutting gods,” I growled. “If you’re stalking my daughter, I’ll see how well it cuts you.”

His eyes had an unhealthy squint, but at the threat they opened up quite wide. His eyes were a bit yellow, almost jaundiced. “Your daughter? Darkness, no!”

“So it’s me you’re following.” I leaned in, just a little. “Why?”

He chuckled and formulated a little Gramerye, setting one fingertip on fire and using it to light his cigar. “I might have a little . . . business proposition for you,” he said after shaking the flame off his finger. “Wolf Queen.”




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