Brutal Bonding

Chapter 3: Hunt The Wren

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♪
'Up with the kettle and down with the pan
Give us a penny to bury the wren!'
♪
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There is an annual event in Ireland called "Hunt The Wren."

People dress up in old clothes, paint their faces, wear straw hats, and travel from door to door singing and dancing along to its traditional song. However, the history behind the holiday is much darker.

Long ago in Ireland, a peculiar tradition known as the "Wren Boys" thrived among the young boys and men of the land. Venturing into the depths of the woods, they embarked on a hunt to kill a small bird — the wren. With cunning skill, they captured the creature, its fate sealed by their hands. In a striking display, the lifeless body of the wren was placed upon a pole and paraded through the town. It was an eerie sight, both macabre and captivating.

The origins of this tradition invites countless tales and theories. Among the many legends, one stands out — a story woven with Irish soldiers and Viking warriors. It is said that in a time of great conflict, a group of Irish soldiers devised a plan to ambush a camp of Viking warriors. However, their plans were ruined when a group of wrens descended upon the Viking encampment, pecking and awakening them from slumber. The timely disturbance led to the failure of the Irish soldiers' plan, resulting in their defeat. From then on, the wren became known as the "bird of the devil," forever associated with misfortune and ill fate.

But that was not the only tale entwined with the wren's dark reputation. The poor creature was blamed for betraying St. Stephan, the first Christian martyr who hid from his persecutors. The legend whispered that the wren's untimely chirping and flapping wings alerted people who sought to harm St. Stephen, leading to his capture and subsequent martyrdom. As a somber remembrance of this event, the hunting of the wren became intertwined with St. Stephen's Day—a day set aside to commemorate the martyr.

So it was that the tradition of hunting the wren on St. Stephen's Day took root in Irish culture, perpetuated through generations. The wren, once a creature of ordinary existence, became a symbol of both adversity and superstition. Its small form carried with it tales of betrayal and military misfortune.

Wren Brennan couldn't deny the irony of the lesson being lectured by her history professor. Sitting directly in front of her was Noemy who was sandwiched between Kim on her left, Ariana on her right, followed by Mina. As if sensing Wren's gaze, they tilted their heads and eyed her with intense scrutiny.

Oh, the irony. Wren Brennan was a bird, and the Sisters of Stygian were eager to hunt her.

Her eyes darted to Warner, for she couldn't help but place the blame squarely on his shoulders. "You called me 'birdie' earlier," she murmured. "I assume you know what happened at Open House?"

"They are my friends. They tell me everything." He shrugged. "I want to help you."

She frowned. "Did you really save them seats, Warner? After what they did to me?"

He met her gaze, his expression sincere. "Wren, people can surprise you sometimes. We shouldn't let past experiences blind us to the possibilities of the present. Give them a chance, and you might discover that second impressions can be better than the first."

Doubtful, pretty boy.

As the two exchanged hushed whispers, Noemy watched from her desk. Her irritation grew with each passing moment as Wren seemingly captivated Warner's undivided attention. She couldn't understand what he found so enthralling about the sophomore. To her, Wren appeared bland and boring, lacking the charisma and allure that the president so clearly possessed.

As her emotions churned, Noemy hardly noticed the professor's call for a class discussion.

"The wren was known to be evil because it was bothersome," Kim stated vaguely, matter-of-factly.

"I believe the wren is not evil, rather than misunderstood." Mina countered, ever the optimist. She snuck an empathetic glance at the brunnette behind her. "Maybe it just wanted to feel included?"

"The wren inserted itself into unwelcomed territory, yapped everyone's ears off, then created mass destruction. And yet you wonder why everybody hated it?" Ariana retorted. In response, Mina cowardly slumped into her seat.

Wren Brennan straightened her posture. She knew this debate held double-meaning that was not just about a history lesson, nor was it about a bird she coincidentally shared a name with. With calculated subtlety, the Sisters of Stygian had referred to a tale that held an underlying threat aimed at Wren Brennan. The words pierced the air, weaving their way through the classroom and landing squarely on her consciousness.

Wren Brennan mustered the courage to interject. "Ariana, the bird had no ill intentions nor should it have been punished. Perhaps the wren is a victim."

"The wren is not a victim. It was a bothersome nuance that got what it deserved," the blonde snapped. She turned to her friend for support. "Right, Noemy?"

Noemy's attention shifted momentarily. Her eyes darted back and forth between her sisters and the nearness of Wren and Warner. "Wren," she started, her gaze piercing through her enemy's. "That birdie should have never stuck its head where it didn't belong in the first place. But it did. So it had to pay the price."

In an instant, the other girl paled. The jab was so painfully obvious.

Wren cast her gaze across the room, her eyes meeting those of her classmates. Their stares were filled with judgment as they distanced themselves, their body language and whispered conversations painting a clear picture — her presence among them had been tainted by the leaders' cruel words. She had become an outcast once again.

When class finally came to an end, Wren gathered her belongings in a hurried frenzy, desperate to escape her peers. Ignoring Warner's concerned voice, she fled the classroom, her tearful eyes fixed on the ground. Her heart felt heavy, burdened by the weight of humiliation once again.

Lost in her thoughts, Wren's footsteps echoed through the hallway. The sound of excited voices drifted towards her, piquing her curiosity. She slowed her pace, straining to listen, and her heart sank as she caught snippets of the conversation.

"Can you believe it? We got accepted into the Sisters of Stygian!"

"We're going to be sisters!"

The words cut through her like a knife. She had dreamt of joining that very sorority, envisioning the legacy her mother had left behind. But now, reality crashed down upon her like a tidal wave revealing the confirmation of her rejection. She wondered where she had gone wrong, questioning her worth and replaying the brutal moments that led to this unfortunate outcome.

'Maybe it's better off this way,' she sulked.

Still, she couldn't shake the ache of failing to reach her expectations.
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Author's note
This is a filler chapter, but there's lots of symbolic foreshadowing. Wren not only shares has the same name as the bird in the history lesson, her last name "Brennan," stems from the Irish...just like Hunt The Wren day...

Hunt The Wren, or Wren Day, is a legitimate holiday! There are song variations dedicated to the sorrowful bird. You can click below to hear 'The Wren Song' by The Clancy Brothers.

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