I dream of Polar night

Charon was relieved that Osprey was going to bring him home. His tail wagged briefly as she agreed to bringing the boy home, and he looked into the darkness behind him. If needed, he would lead the way. He waited for Osprey to come into motion first, and when she said 'shall we', Charon got ready to leave when suddenly, a loud screech startled him.

In reflex, Charon jumped into the air, tucking his tail between his legs, and pressed himself against Osprey. "Whawassat?" he asked, trying not to sound too frightened, even though it was clear from his body language that he was terrified by the sound. It didn't help that Osprey looked startled as well, and feeling that the adult in the situation was scared too only made Charon feel even more scared.

When Osprey said 'let's go', Charon quickly followed suit. He stayed close to Osprey, brushing himself slightly against her moving legs with every step she took. "Osprey, are you gonna tell me 'nother story?" he asked as they walked, mostly because he wanted to forget the frightening screeching sounds he had just heard and wanted to stop being afraid.

"Probably a fox - their yowls are horrible," Osprey explained Charon, not caring, whether she had insulted any fox that happened to be nearby or not. The god or whoever had created them probably thought of it as a good joke - beautiful beings (of course, no match for wolves), but with ear-splitting voice - no melody there at all. Come to think about it - there was a good material for a story there. Why was it so? At this moment she regretted her intentions to eat the fox rather than accepting it's offer to share the fox-lore. Maybe the secret had been there already and she had missed it.

It felt a little odd that Charon trusted her so much in such a brief period of time to seek safety in her presence. Yet it was nice too, a pleasant responsibility for someone. "Sure," Osprey agreed with little thought. "Tell me - are you afraid of night and darkness?"

Charon had heard the shouting sounds before, though he never knew that they were made by foxes. He always figured that they were from horrible monsters, and the thought that it was only foxes that produced the sounds was comforting to him. He was a lot less afraid of foxes than monsters, after all. Feeling less frightened now that he knew it was only a fox that produced the monstrous sound, Charon took a bit more distance from Osprey again, no longer nearly tripping her with his closeness but staying near her nevertheless. He needed to show he was tough, after all.

Osprey asked him if he was scared of the dark, and Charon vehemently shook his head. "No," said Charon. "I just din't expecteded the sounds!" He said it as though it would have been a shame if he were afraid of it — Charon thought himself very brave, after all — and that he was now desperately trying to prove that he was not scared at all. "I'm not scared of foxes," he added to prove his point in case. Then, realising that maybe that was why she had asked him, Charon added, "So if you wanna tell a scary darkness-like story that's okay."

Charon was a brave little kid - when Osprey had been his age, she had felt a lot more afraid and insecure than she had admitted. Living with rowdy boys forced her to appear tough, even, when she felt like running for the hills. And the dark of the night was one of the things that she still feared a bit, because it was that time of the day, when creatures that had lied hidden from the light, were leaving their huts, nests and dens to prowl around and do their deeds - good or bad - that was up to them. Part of her knew, that this probably wasn't true, but the other held to this fascinating idea. Therefore she always had a healthy amount of fear not to go outside at night, if there was no need for that.

"Nah, not scary darkness stories," Osprey shook her head. She had some really good ones with lots of blood, screaming and bad endings, but she didn't want to terrify the kid and later try to explain herself of why was it so to the angry parents. "Have you ever heard about trolls?" she asked him.

Charon didn’t mind that Osprey wouldn’t tell a scary story, because truthfully, he had been rather rattled by the fox yowling and he preferred not to be frightened further. The boy followed Osprey closely as she asked if he knew about trolls. He tried to remember if anyone had ever told him anything about trolls. Truthfully, the wolves taking care of him, which were as close to a family as anyone would get, mostly told stories about norse things with many difficult, unpronouncable names in them. He didn’t remember any trolls, but he might’ve not been paying attention if they were mentioned in any of the stories.

”Nope,” said Charon and he shook his head. ”I betcha you’re gonna tell me ‘bout ‘em, tho’!” Expectantly, Charon looked up at Osprey and waited for her to begin the story about the trolls that she had indirectly promised.

Charon's excitement to hearing a story was contagious - even Osprey felt the joy for the upcoming moment rising, even though she had no idea about, what kind of a tale she was going to tell. She rarely retold one twice, preferring to come up with a new one every single time. "So... trolls are mysterious beings that prefer to dwell in the mountains or, where there are a lot of rocks. The older the place is, the more chances are that you will get to see and meet one there.

No one knows, how they appeared on the Earth, but some say that they are made of mix of old rocks, moss, some twigs and a sprinkle of magic. And this magic - the ability to do wondorous things that others cannot - is of an ancient and special kind. There are very few or most likely no creature at all, who knows, how it works. Trolls themselves - of course - know, but they won't tell it for what is worth.

They are neither good, nor bad - a mix of both - just like we people are. Yet they tend to keep to themselves most of the time, living in small or big families, rarely alone. The funny thing is - that they are so secretive - that some people can live all their lives alongside a friendly family of trolls and never find it out," Osprey told the little kid, her eyes alight from the rush of the burst of imagination.

"Now that you know a bit about them - help me out," she wanted to involve the kid in the making of the tale. "Pick a name of a troll - whatever comes to your mind, and try to imagine, what would he like to do the most in his life?"

Charon listened intently to the story that Osprey began about the trolls. It was a weird thought that there could be trolls living somewhere near him, and he never knew because they were so good at hiding. Charon wondered if he had ever come in contact with a troll and just didn't know it. The way Osprey told it made Charon even more excited, because her eyes were alight with enthusiasm for the story and belief in its truth.

When Osprey ask him for a troll name, Charon looked taken aback for a moment. He'd gotten so used to being in the role of listener that he needed to adjust and think about it for a while. "His name is Drake," said Charon eventually, though he had only diverted the name from 'dragon'. "And uhm, he likes to wrestlin' with his brothers and sister and go on adventures a lot!" Expectantly the pup looked up at Osprey, waiting for her to continue the story about Drake the troll.

"So - the tale about Drake the Troll and his mighty adventure," Osprey never said "no" to suggestions people had for the stories. First - there were no wrong or right ones, secondly - the more bizarre they were, the more exciting it was to tackle the challenge by implementing it in the creation of the story.

"Drake was a little and young troll - made of fine granite and limestone rocks, having two round and shiny black obsidian eyes, a tuft of grass for hair and green moss for fur. He also had two brothers and a sister, which looked alike, but each were a bit different. All of them were created on a moonlit night by the oldest and most respected troll in the group.

So... on the same day they were born, they all knew, what to do and how to run the "troll business". This included helping out the rest of the members, running around, making pranks, wrestling - for all trolls wrestle - it's a sacred sport, scaring the inhabitants of the forest by making fancy noises or giggling ghostly giggles behind the backs of those, who had to go through the forest. And - of course - as all young trolls do - they played a game called "dare". This means that you have to do the most bizarre things possible.

Drake was everything a young troll could be and he would have been forgotten by now in troll-lore, if not for his crazy adventure he was thrown in. And all began with the simple game of "dare" on a day, when the Big Black Wolf of Clouds, had decided to take a rest in the forest, where trolls lived," here she paused and looked down at Charon. "Can you imagine, what the Big Black Wolf of Clouds can do?"

Charon listened to the story, taking in all the details. The most important ones, besides the ones he had added, were of course that trolls liked to wrestle and that it was sort of like a sport for trolls, and the game of dare. It seemed that the story continued mostly on the latter, though Charon was excited that he liked wrestling too, just like trolls! He would fit right in with the trolls.

The big black wolf of clouds... Charon tilted his head as they walked and said, "Make storms?" He was imaging a wolf made entirely out of big black clouds now, so it made sense. "Did Drake's friends dare them to pull the big cloud wolf of black's tail?" Charon didn't really realise he was saying the name wrong, and looked at Osprey expectantly, waiting for her to continue the story (with his suggestion, he hoped).

"A storm wolf he was - with a thunderous bark, a howl so mighty, loud and strong that it could take whole forests down. He could make clouds clash together and the lightening appear - you will see that one day, don't worry," Osprey remembered in the last moment that Charon was still a young kid and that he hadn't seen a lot of the things she mentioned and considered obvious.

"Drake's friends did dare him to pull on dragon's tail. They found the exact location, where the dragon was sleeping - it was not that hard to do, because there was a big, gray raincloud hovering right above the wolf. And they told that, if Drake isn't going to pull the tail, then he will be called norgle for life. And being a "norgle" among trolls is something you don't want to be.

So Drake - despite being scared to the core - sneaked to the sleeping wolf, got hold of it's big tail and gave a mighty tug. Everything happened in a blur from that point on, because there was an ear-splitting roar, Drake felt being pulled off the ground, was tossed in the sky and what he knew next - he was flying over the tree-tops in high speed. Until..." here Osprey stopped and looked expectantly at Charon. "What do you think - what happened then?"

Being right was something that Charon loved to do, and the fact that the story was bent around his will and suggestions brought him much joy. He loved to help shape the story that Osprey was telling. In his mind, he imagined the wolf made out of clouds, and he imagined lots of wind and rain. He hadn't seen much lightning yet, though he had once or twice heard the crashes of thunder while he was inside the safe confines of the den.

The story continued, and Charon listened intently. Being made part of the story only made him listen even better. Charon said, "He got hit by a lightning!" He didn't know much about lightning, but he knew that it was dangerous to go out in it because it could hit you. "And and and uuuuuuuhm... Then he falled down and a bear saved Drake and and the bears made him better again!" Charon looked at Osprey as he made up the unlikely turn of events, tilted his head and finished with. ".. Right?"

When Osprey had been younger, she had told her stories in one very piece, but then she had noticed that most people lost interest, if the story got too long and complicated. Some even fell asleep, which, of course, wasn't very pleasant for the aspiring story-teller, but it had given her a very valuable lesson. In order for people to believe the story, they had to be made part of it. If they had to think about the next significant action of a character, they also had to listen carefully. So far it had always worked and people - even those, who said that they were unimaginative bunch - were excited to help out.

Needless to say that Charon's excitement for helping out and for being "right" every single time, made Osprey happy too. The story was doing what it was supposed to do - entertain, keep on edge, make people imagine and catch a glimpse of a different, sometimes more cheerful and colorful world. "Ok, hit by lightening," Osprey repeated out loud, while memorizing the rest of the details the little fellow had given her in one take. "You probably haven't seen the lightening in action, but believe me - it's very strong. It's capable to take down trees and crack rocks. This was, what happened to the poor Drake. He got cracks and splinters and, when he fell down, he was totally disassembled. It means that his head was lying in one place, while he could see his legs stuck in a tree and his rump lying elsewhere. Horrible," she shuddered at the very thought.

"The good thing was that the magic that held Drake together didn't cease to exist. He was still aware of everything that happened, but he couldn't do much about it. So he lied there alone in the forest and felt miserable and unhappy, because there was no one there to help him.

However - lucky for him - as you correctly guessed - a bear passed by. And not just any bear, but one of the crafting kind. They are very rare species of bears that besides eating, sleeping and occasionally attacking wolves to steal their food can make things out of rocks, wood, sand, mud - you name it. This bear noticed Drake and knew that something was not right with Drake. Because troll heads don't just lie around in the forest. He approached our hero and asked - What happened to you? And Drake began to cry and explained his miserable fate.

The bear sat down, thought and then decided that he could help. First he got Drake's pair of legs and arms down from the tree, where they had been stuck, he picked up Drake's head and then rump and went to the crafting bear village," another pause, another expectant look at Charon. "How do you think the bears put Drake back together?"

While Osprey told Charon that Drake did get hit by lightning, Charon's tail wiggled excitedly at being right again. Osprey continued the story, explaining how Drake's body had been splintered apart. Even though it might sound horrible to an adult, Charon just sort of imagined the body parts to be in all sorts of places, but without any of the blood and gore and pain and drama involved if it were to actually happen in real life. He giggled as he said, "Oh no!", imagining poor Drake's head laying somewhere while it tried to look around for the other bodyparts, but unable to find any of them, and unable to move without the rest of his body. How was he ever going to be in one piece again?

As Osprey continued, it turned out Charon's thoughts had been pretty much spot-on (could she read his mind, now? or was he the one who was really good at guessing where, exactly, this story was going?).

Charon only really knew bears in the growly and rawrawrawr we're going to gobble you up kind, (and he'd never seen one in real life so far, despite boasting about biting them in the butt many times over) so it was strange, but also sort of nice, to hear about a crafting bear. It was a little like hearing about the friendly story dragon.

When Osprey told the bit about Drake crying, Charon looked sad, feeling sorry for the poor troll. "Poor Drake," whispered Charon to himself during the story, quietly, because he did not want to interrupt the story.

Luckily, the crafting bear found all of the pieces of Drake so that he could be put together, which brought Charon in lighter moods again, too. As Osprey asked how they would put together Drake, Charon squinted his eyes as he considered it for a bit, wanting to come up with a good answer. "Theeeeeyyy, uhm... Put together all of the parts 'n then magic made him one troll again!" He looked at Osprey, by now already accepting his fate as a total psychic and figuring that that was, indeed, how the story would continue.

Had Osprey known, what was going on in Charon's mind at the same time she was weaving the story, she would be both amazed and have a good laugh about it. Of course, in terms of not disappointing the kid she would agree to his idea of having telepathic abilities in regard of this particular story. He would grow up and understand the truth later, but now - was it really neccessary? He still posessed the ability she loved about children the most - their unlimited creativity, which extended far beyond the grasp of reality.

"Yeah, they did so, but there is one thing - crafting bear magic is different from troll magic, therefore it had an unusual effect on Drake too. If he was made of rocks entirely at first, after the first spell - a thick fur began grow, after the second - two fluffy ears sprouted out, and after the third - a long tail appeared. With the fourth - he got a real, beating heart in place of the magical rock that was there before.

So in the end - he was in one piece, he was the same Drake, yet he looked and felt entirely different. He was not aware of that in the beginning and realized this only, when the bears eyed him very curiously. They then brought him to a lake and showed him his reflection. Needless to say that Drake was aghast - what had happened to his "trollful" self! He threw a tantrum - he cried, he tried to pull out the fur (which turned out to be painful), he tried to break the tail off (which was even more painful) and eventually he sat down and felt miserable again. This time - because, according to him - he was not a troll anymore.

The crafting bears told him that there was no way to reverse the spell, therefore Drake thanked them for their help and began his long journey home. Many days, weeks and months passed, before Drake arrived at his home plateau, where his family lived," she stopped here. "So - what did his family do, when they saw, how Drake had changed? Did they recognize him?"

Charon gasped when Osprey said that the bear magic made Drake have hair. Those darned bears! Well, they didn't do it on purpose, but looking fuzzy must be really hard for a bear. The only plus side seemed to be the real beating heart, because, from what Charon had deducted from other stories, real hearts were always better than stone hearts, because it was much easier to love with them (though Charon did not know or understand why, exactly, this was so; it just was).

Poor Drake was even poorer now that he was attached together again, but by bear magic, making him all hairy! Charon wondered how his family would respond when he would return. Did he look like a bear, or was his rocky self just replaced by a furrier version of the same troll? Charon didn't know for sure.

"Hmmmm," mused Charon when Osprey asked him for the reaction of Drake's parents. "When they saw him from far they thought he was a bear! When he got close his brother tackled him 'cause he was a bear! But then 'cause he was close he saw that it was just Drake with hair. And and and uhm, his fam'ly loved him 'cause he was still Drake." Charon nodded in conclusion, because he knew that was what his family would do if he would have bear-fur instead of Charon-fur (though he wasn't entirely sure what the difference was). That's what family did: accept and love you unconditionally... Right?

For someone, who had lost his parents at early age, Charon had a very good idea of, what parents should be. If Thistle and Ragnar had taught him that then Osprey felt the deepest respect for both of them. Religions and beliefs aside there were family values that remained the same in every pack (or should). And at the very moment, while she was listening carefully to, how Charon gave the finishing touches to the story, she regretted that she would not be there to see him grow up, that she was in no way related to him, to have an excuse to visit him frequently. He was an interesting child and had a promising future ahead of him and she wished she could be part of it.

However, when her stay here would come to an end (and she knew that the time was near), so would any ties with the kid, therefore she decided to put all sullen thoughts aside for now and enjoy his company, while she still could. Judging by the particular scents of Ragnar and Thistle growing stronger, they weren't far from the den. Unknowingly, while spending their time, making up a story, they had walked quite a long way. "That's very nice. Drake lived happily ever after, until it was time for the next adventure," she finished, adding a bit of "to be continued...", because this troll had a potential for more stories. Especially now that he was "magicked". "We are almost there," she told Charon with a bit of a regret in her voice. "Would you like to hear about, what happened to Drake some other time?"

Sadly, every good story came to an end, and so did Osprey's (and Charon's) story of Drake. While disappointed, Charon knew that stories simply ended at some point. He supposed he wasn't even that disappointed that the story had ended, but he knew it marked the end of spending time with Osprey, something that he had enjoyed much. "Oh, we're already here!" said Charon in surprise as they neared the den, ears cupping forward towards the quiet den.

Looking back at Osprey, Charon smiled and said, trying to keep his voice down but only managing to speak a-little-less-loud-than-usually, "I would loooove to hear more about Drake!" He hesitated a moment and added, "Will you come visit when you go back to your own pack?" Charon wished that the Bay had a storyteller as good as Osprey around, but as long as she made sure to visit, he supposed it was okay they didn't have their own. He could be the pack's makeshift storyteller until Osprey came back to share more stories.

Promises were easy to give, but not that easy to keep. So, when the kid asked, if Osprey would ever come again to tell a story, her first instinct was to say "yes, definitely", but she stopped herself in the right moment. Stavenger bay was quite far from the plateau and, if the winter was to be harsh, there would be no way of her to leave home to make another journey. Besides - if it hadn't happened by now - then Blue willow would give birth to her kids and she would be in need of all help possible. Being away this long was bad enough.

"I will see, what I'll be able to do about it," she said eventually, choosing the "neither yes, nor no" approach. "You will know the way from here?" she asked casting a glance at the den nearby and then back to the boy. "It was nice meeting you Charon and I hope that we will see each other again," Osprey bid her farewells, turned around and headed back to her temporary den, feeling a lot happier than she had in the beginning, for she had been gifted something very valuable tonight. A friend.

"Oh..." was Charon's response when Osprey didn't exactly jump up with joy at the prospect of visiting him again. He felt disappointed and, somewhere deep down, a little betrayed. Charon thought they'd had a really nice time and that surely, Osprey would want to visit again, but she seemed less than enthusiastic. She did say she would do what she could, but he'd hoped that she would be happy he asked, cheerily accepted and promised she'd come again to tell him more.

When Osprey asked if he'd know the way, Charon nodded. He glanced over his shoulder at the den and said, "Yeah, it's here. Bye, Osprey, thanks for the stories!" As Osprey turned and left, Charon watched her and he wondered if he would see her again after she would go home to her pack. He didn't remember what the pack was called, but he was sure that Ragnar and Thistle knew and could tell him. Maybe some day when he was a bit older, he could visit Osprey's pack and come to see her, he told himself.

Charon watched until Osprey's form disappeared into the forest and he could no longer see any of her, then turned around walked into the den. There, he snuggled up with his family and swiftly fell asleep, dreaming of the adventures of Charon the Adventurer First Class and Drake the Furry Troll, as well as their side-kick Osprey, the Teller of Stories.