His breath was heavy, laden with moisture and heat. There was not a single muscle in his body which wasn't stiff.
Slowly he took a step back towards the tree, one hand arched backwards. He could feel the cold sweat which trickled down his temples with each heart beat.
The wolf growled at him baring its fangs. Its eyes shone brightly in the evening sun, which slowly melted into the horizon.
This wolf was bigger than normal. It had grown to the size of a bull, yet it looked extremely agile. There would be no escaping this time.
With one single leap, the wolf closed the gap between them and moved in to attack. Vito froze as the world darkened around him.
Vito arose from his sleep to the sound of the gushing stream. It was still dark although there was a faint light in the east signaling the light of day. He was sweating and he felt relieved when he realized it was only a dream. The same dream had been troubling him for many months now. Confused and frightened, he stood up from his bed which was an elevated platform carpeted with dry leaves. He walked to the stream and washed his face. He would not be getting any sleep today.
He walked the narrow path which was covered in moss and continued his journey. After hours of walking, he could see the dull glow of earthen lamps and lanterns in the distance. It would take him an hour to reach the village. The sun had crept up the hill and spread its soft warm rays across the valley.
He walked the path breathing in the morning air thinking random thoughts. He remembered the times when he would entertain himself for hours, running across the maize fields in the evening sun and swimming in the cold river water during the summers.
Usually, it was only natural for him to make up scenarios where he would often fight a tiger or a wolf. He would often imagine himself standing on a mountaintop, staring into the clouds beneath him. He could feel himself gasping for breath as he tried to breathe against the roaring wind. He would be elated at this thought and he would find himself smiling from eye to eye. He was amused by this behavior and he would laugh wildly each time it happened. He had an infectious laugh which was wild and carefree.
He hurried along his path often stumbling on small clumps of grass protruding from the ground. As he neared the village, he felt happy at the thought of meeting new people.
He liked the way people were always amused at the sight of his appearance. He was not all that pretty to look at, but he had a handsome face with strong jaws and a perfect set of teeth. People had always been fascinated by his eyes. His deep, dark eyes looked like charcoals and it was hard to distinguish the pupils from the iris. The eyes displayed no emotion and his brows were always furrowed in concentration. They say that eyes are the windows to the human soul. And yet, his pupils displayed only emptiness and disinterest.
As he reached the outskirts of the village, he saw a few children playing a game of football. He felt weary and so, decided to rest a while. He had traveled a long way and had missed the sound of the human voice. How many days had been gone since he last heard a voice other than his own? Had it really been a month? He remembered the days when he experimented on how long he could live without hearing his own voice. Dedicated to the cause, he continued the experiment for two weeks. He suppressed all urges to speak out during the period. His voice seemed strange even to his own ears when he spoke for the first time in two weeks. Grinning at the reminiscence, he sat beneath a tree and relaxed as he watched the children play.
He loved the sound of the children laughing as they ran after the ball which was being kicked in all directions.
At one moment, the ball rocketed in his direction and landed near his outstretched feet. He got up and placed the ball under his foot. The children stopped dead in their tracks and looked at the stranger. They inspected this strange, tall man from head to toe. Frightened by his ragged appearance and the length of his beard, they maintained their distance.
Vito, realizing this started juggling the ball with his feet and then kicked the ball in their direction. The children's fear turned into fascination and they immediately liked the stranger. Vito joined in on the game and played with them for a few minutes.
Vito was happy that he had befriended the children.
One of the children named Dmitri ran towards him and held the beard in his grasp. He pulled his beard forcing Vito to bow down and face the small child.
"Your beard is like that of Ragnar Lothbruk", Dmitri said to him. "Ragnar was an Earl of the Vikings", he continued, looking into those empty eyes.
"Hmm... That's a really cool name", Vito said as he lifted the boy into his arms. All the other boys ran towards him and crowded around him in an attempt to touch his beard. They competed for his attention and he felt loved for the first time in many months. He had usually been treated kindly by people of the towns he had visited. He was always grateful towards them. Some of the people pitied him and he always hated the look of pity in their eyes. Little did they know that Vito had chosen this life for himself, that they did not know him enough to pity him. They did not know his story, his past, or what he was feeling. His calm visage was like a mask beneath which was a man, brimming with ego and arrogance. This was probably his greatest weakness, and yet he had an aura of friendliness and charm around him.
Vito then grabbed his brown tattered leather satchel and made his way towards the village with the children following him.excited, and eager to show their parents their newest friend.
Dmitri, tugging at his dilapidated and dirty shirt, led the way towards his house. The house was small and made of stone with small windows protruding outwards to give the appearance of swollen eyes on a thin face. The roof was made of a series of tiles placed one on top of another in rows. Dmitri ran into his house announcing his presence and demanding attention. A few moments later, a stout middle-aged man came out of the house and stood on the porch inspecting the stranger. She must be Dmitri's mother, Vito thought.
"I hear you need food and accommodation. What is your name and where do you come from?", she demanded an answer.
"I am Vito Chekhov and I would not like to reveal where I come from. I would be very grateful if you helped me. I can work for you in return for your favour.",Vito replied looking her in the eye.
"No mother, he is Ragnar Lothbrok", Dmitri chirped in from the door. The mother shot a look at him signaling him to be quiet.
"I don't really see why you can't tell me where you come from. How can I really trust that you won't steal something from us?", she replied resting her plump fingers on her hips.
Just then a man came out of the house and said,"Now, now, stop humiliating the fellow, will you Selma." The man was short and stout too but he had a round face and a rough beard and mustache.
"Winter is almost here and we need help with cutting the logs for the fire. Just look at the man Selma, I bet he can help us out for the time being. Do you know how to use an axe?",he asked turning towards Vito.
Vito shook his head sideways and looked into the man's eyes.
" Oh well, you will learn soon enough", he said and patted Him on his back. "Come on, I will show you your room for the next few weeks. What is your name again?", he inquired of him.
"It's Ragnar, you know the Viking Earl", Dmitri spoke not giving Vito any chance to say anything.
"Hmm... Very well then. I hope you feel comfortable here", he said as he led him into the house.
The house looked small from the outside but it turned out to be bigger than he thought. It was a single storied house but it was stretched to the lengths to make space for a few extra rooms which were connected by a single passage. The kitchen was towards the end of the passage and it housed a sink, a stove, and a small round table which was big enough for four people.
He was shown into a small room near the kitchen which had only a mattress and two trunks placed side by side in the corner. The sun's ray slanted into the room at an angle and fell onto the mattress lying on the floor. This illuminated the room with an orange glow which dispersed on the roughly painted walls.
"Tomorrow we shall make a bed for you out of the logs. Get some rest for now. You can shower and freshen up in the evening. And umm...yeah, Selma will call you when the food is ready. We will be working from tomorrow so get all the rest you need", he said and smiled at Him.
"Thank you, sir, for everything", Vito said and smiled back.
"Don't mention it. And please, by all means, call me Simon. Now go on, get some sleep", he said as he placed an apple on the trunk and closed the door behind him.
Vito ate the apple and fell down on the mattress and decided that he would leave in a week's time.
He had tried with such difficulty to sever his ties with family and friends. An introvert by nature, he never spoke much with anybody. He had recognized the feeling of being different from the other children, ever so talkative and jolly, since early childhood days. He had always been socially awkward and aloof. As time passed, he grew suffocated of the love his family gave him. He had friends back home, a few of them, but he never revealed to them anything related to his emotions.
It was only when Vito became a teenager that he made peace with himself. He tried to make friends with everybody and gradually his introversion suppressed over time, and he became jolly and good humored. However, try as he might, he was afraid of new situations and he understood fully that he could never be really free of criticizing himself for his shortcomings.
Nevertheless, he was a charmer among the people he felt comfortable with. His friends admired his quick wit. Moreover, he had a certain way of doing things. He always had his hands on something and always dreamed of performing the art he wished to perfect, but never gave his all to anything. He could dance, sing, play all sports that interested him, and entertain his friends showing them his accomplishments.
Now, as he began planning his departure, he fell into a dreamless sleep.
Outside, a woman in her mid-twenties, radiant as the sun and light as a dandelion in the summer breeze, swayed effortlessly as she neared her father's house.
The sun hid behind the clouds creating a silver lining which glowed as it spread its luminescence across the valley.