Mr Wild

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
how the big bad wolf was before he got his name.

Submitted: August 07, 2016

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Submitted: August 07, 2016

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Mr wild sat mulling by a large oak tree, his sharp nails tapped out a familiar irritated path into the knotted wood.  A low growl emanated from his throat

He had been swindled by swine, and it was not to be had.

His gaze narrowed with menace as he looked out over the fields before him at the three smoking chimneys.  The wooden home he had carved out lovingly with the wood from the woodsman, the stone cottage he had painstakingly put together with stone from the stonemason and finally the straw house he had fought to make perfect.

Mr wild had been a friend to many, always there to lend a hand, why just the previous week he had helped young red to make it to her grandmother’s house when she had become lost whilst picking flowers, indeed many had been the time when he had passed through and enjoyed a visit and a good meal with the old lady.   He had always been a quiet loner, drifting from village to village a laid back kind of fella,  never asking for much in return for his helpfulness, as long as a good meal awaited him at the end of a job, he was happy. 

Happy that is until he had chanced upon three young rogues

It had been a wet, miserable day at the market some time past when he had come across them huddled together near the apple stall, they had been eyeing the apples with slavering intent, “Tasty apples!  Tasty red apples!  Called out the old crone who held the shiny apples aloft in her twisted fingers. 

“Ho ho !  Mr wild had called out, sauntering through the square "Some of us have had apples from your cart before, not a good idea love” He laughed

The old crone  threw the apple and just missed his head as he winked at the three juveniles  and told them to beware.

They had looked from the old crone and back again, he’d beckoned them to come  follow him.  “There’s no better gingerbread than the ones here” He pointed to a small stall near a cottage by the river, their beady black eyes had watched him warily “Well?”  he  waited

“What’s the point?  said the older of the three “we haven’t a pot to piss in” pulling out the fabric from his empty pockets they had hung like two wet dog ears.

Knowing what it was like to be hungry Mr wild checked his own pockets and took pity on them offering  to pay for the gingerbread men that were famed the village over. 

He had watched them greedily swallow down their biscuits waiting patiently to ask them how they had found themselves thus, to which they had replied that their mother had kicked them out with nothing but the clothes upon their backs.

Without asking why, and without actually thinking at all Mr Wild had offered his help to the trio almost instantly, being the trusting fellow that he was.

They had slid sly looks to each other before replying, “what is it you can do for us?” 

“well…i”Mr wild thought a moment “I could point you in the way of work and"

before he could finish

"Are you good with your hands?"

“why yes I suppose..."

  “Can you build a home for us?  You look strong enough to” said the youngest brother, his pale pudding- face alight with hope

“well..well"  Mr Wild stuttered

"could do you?” They all asked together now

"we would give to you the finest truffles our noses could find and employment on the farm we plan to run if you will just build us a home?"

Being very partial to truffles Mr wild had agreed to build a home for them in the village so they could start a farm, and employ his services therein. It all together seemed a very good plan.

 

And so it was that many months later after spending some considerable time building not only one  but three houses to their exact specifications, he found that he had soon been much sought after for his  skills.

No more was he a drifter catching a hot meal when he could, Mr wild was now in the business of building and selling property.

Even going as far to build a house made entirely of candy, strange request to be sure, but he had done it all the same

Everyone had paid him for his work, everyone had given something special to him and thanked his kindness.

But the three He had asked for nothing more than the very best truffles their noses could find had yet to show a morsel or a coin.

Every day for many years he watched as they ran the small farm they had all started together, and each and every day he watched as they gorged themselves on truffles from the woods.

They paid no rent, and they soon grew fat and rich from their sales in the market.

It soon came to pass that eventually no one needed a home built, and with no money, Mr wild had eventually found himself back on the road.

He went to the farm where the three brothers had promised him work

 He knocked on the wooden door and was told to leave, there was nothing there for him to have

He knocked on the door of the straw house and got the same reply

And thirdly the stone knocker banged loudly

“There’s nothing here for you, I’m busy go away” This went on for several days

“You will regret your greed”  Mr Wild had replied each and every time he visited

But the trio had become relaxed and comfortable in their lives, laughingly telling him to blow his hot air elsewhere.

 Happy for all of them to indulge this vision of his nature

Mr wild had retreated for the final time.

 For the first time in a very, very long time Mr wild felt his hair bristle and shake on its end.

He scraped his nails down the bark of the old oak tree and smiled a big toothy grin as he crept forward with the wind at his back.

It didn’t take long for the first nor the second squeal to herald their untimely end… the third was a bit trickier but eventually Mr wild sat holding his extended stomach and gave a great belch as he cosied up to the fireplace in the lovely stone cottage he had built.

Over the years Mr wilds reputation preceded him so much so that the gossip was rife in each and every village.  There had been many stories to write about him.

 Unfortunately, always portrayed as the Big bad wolf.

 

 

 


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