Orsino’s
grandmother stood at the end of the hall. Seeing him, she backed
away. She did not know that this creeping beast was her dear
grandson. She did not recognize the boy, whose soft chin she
had tickled many times. She could not have known that she had
once told him, his birthmark was a sign of good luck or that
playing with toads would give him warts.
Excited to see her, Orsino pounced on the elderly woman, who
collapsed beneath his great weight. Had she fainted? He wondered.
Even worse, had she died? He couldn’t tell. He began to
lick her face, trying to wake her.
Just then his cousin appeared in the
doorway, his brothers behind her. They saw Orsino as he really
was, a large wolf, licking at the face of their fallen grandmother.
Basso and Mezzo attacked, both with their axes. Basso’s
blade cut Orsino’s hindquarter. He cried out in pain and
barked in anger. Not wanting to fight his brothers, he surged
past their slashing axes, ran out the door and fled into the
woods. Basso and Mezzo quickly followed his trail of blood,
intending to finish the job they started. |
Licking
his wounds, Orsino could run no farther and so lay at the base
of a sheltering tree. Soon his brothers were upon him and as
he looked from Mezzo to Basso, he hoped to see recognition and
mercy in their eyes. He saw none. With a cascade of blows, it
was done. The brothers stood over the dying wolf and saw him
writhe his last breaths, and watched in shock, as his form changed.
Mezzo was the first to see a berry coloured stain on the creature’s
neck and knew that Orsino too, had such a mark. As the thing
took its last gasp, and the spell unwrapped from it’s body,
a knot formed in their stomachs, their chests ached and their
shoulders tightened. Now, they saw the truth. Laying still,
at their feet was their sweet younger brother |
