Twisted Tales

A Sheep in Wolf's Clothing

Erik froze.

"Pants? Don't be ridicu—oh." He spotted them too: a rather fine pair of red velvet pants, trimmed with yellow embroidery and held in place over the wolf's shoulder by a pair of matching suspenders.

He stopped trying to pry my arms from around his bicep, and took a really good look at the wolf that was currently dusting itself off in a disturbingly anthropomorphic way.

"Jack, pin it, keep it down!" he shouted anyway.

It was obvious Jack didn't know what to do, and that he certainly didn't want to do that, but the wolf began to push itself up from where it laid sprawled in the dirt, and he obeyed. Jack leaped forward and placed his boot on the creature's neck, pushing down hard and forcing it back to the ground. It went down with a little oof and began scrabbling in the dirt, but Jack pressed all his weight down to keep it from getting up again.

"Now kill it, Jack, while you have the chance!" Erik ordered him.

"Jack, it's wearing PANTS!" I protested.

"Yes, it will look very fashionable while it's tearing us limb from limb!" he shouted. "Kill the damn thing, Jack!"

"I—I don't think I can, Erik," said Jack, looking a little green around the gills just at the thought.

Erik bared his teeth, and tried to surge forwards, as if he was going to yank the knife out of Jack's hand and do it himself; but I dug my feet into the dirt to keep him from going anywhere. He cried out in wordless anger, dropping his arrow and putting his free hand to my forehead, trying to push me off his arm that way.

"It's only a damn wolf. A pest." He spat the word. "It's probably killed countless people—humans, Jack, children. It's vermin, kill it!"

"Erik, you're freaking out, it's not even doing anything—" I try to argue with him, make him see sense.

"Freaking out? I'm freaking out?!" he repeated, his voice going abnormally high and tight. "I've seen what these monsters can do! And so have you!"

"It's got a sign," I snarled, pointing to the picket white picket sign that had fallen into the dirt beside the wolf. "Jack, I think you've better let it up."

Jack looked from me, to the wolf, to Erik.

When it was clear that Erik was too busy gaping open mouthed at the sign to argue, Jack slowly and cautiously lifted his boot from the wolf's neck.

As soon as the pressure was lifted, the wolf began to cough and splutter. It unsteadily picked itself up off the ground, standing on its hind legs like a human and wiping the dirt from its trousers with its paws. "Well, I never!" it said indignantly, stooping down to retrieve its dropped sign. "This has turned out to be one fine day indeed!" It turned to Jack, who jumped back by a couple of feet and pointed the short dagger at it. "And I'd very much appreciate it, sir, if you would point that thing somewhere else. Honestly."

Jack, too shocked to do much else, obeyed.

Erik apparently found his voice again. "It talks. I hate it when they talk." His lips pulled back in a snarl. "They always plead for their lives, the devils."

"It's not eating us!" I shouted over him. I released his arm just for a second, grabbing him by the shirt collar instead, and I shook him vigorously, as if I could physically shake understanding into him. "It's not eating us! Wouldn't it have attacked us already if it wanted to?"

"Eat you?" said the wolf, an offended expression plastered all over its furry face. "Of course I'm not going to eat you! That is exactly the sort of thing I am fighting against! It would be detrimental to my cause if I went and ate you, I'd lose all credibility. Even if you did attack me for no reason."