Bay’s Story Time – The Magick of the Wolves

Part three of the Druid legends will show you just how deep the Magick runs in Old Ireland, that it isn’t solely the Druids who are able to tap into it and it never was.
Read on to find out what exactly that means…

The Magick of the Wolves

Those same legends tell of the wolves that used to roam the wilds of old Ireland.
They were larger than the usual packs of wolves that hunt livestock and terrorize villages in the stories most of the world tells, and quite a bit smarter, but not the vicious killers your ordinary wolves are depicted as throughout history.
These wolves lived in packs, you see, like typical wolves. But the females, when they were with pups, would separate and hide in a secondary den to protect their young from the clan hunters and other dangers.
In the dark of night, they would emerge to hunt, their eyes accustomed to the darkness enough that they could see even when the moon hid behind the clouds.
One night, a female wolf ventured too close to a village unwittingly. She was heard in the woods, several men mounting their horses with crossbows in hand to follow her. So she took off across the lush countryside, away from the safe dens the pups were being raised in and toward another pack’s territory.
She was followed and shot by one of the hunters, his arrow sticking just above her left hip and leaving her limping, but she managed to escape.
As the sun rose, the she-wolf wandered back toward her den, the arrow still stuck where it had hit, each step more painful than the last and slower than she would have been otherwise. It would take her all day to travel back to her pack’s territory, the sounds of humans moving about sending her into the woods again.
As she lay low in the underbrush, the wolf felt something she had never felt before. A soft pull at her soul that drew her toward the humans, almost as if some among them were a part of her pack, familiar to her somehow and safe.
Limping, she made her way toward the camp and the smell of cooking meat, surprised to find that the humans there greeted her kindly and offered her some of their food.
The she-wolf thought of her pups waiting for her back at the den, surprised when one of the humans looked her way and a pulse of peace followed. Humans who can communicate our way?
Her surprise remained as the humans tended to her wound, removing the arrow and bandaging her leg, their touch careful and respectful. That night, she slept near their fire, her presence keeping ordinary wolves and other wild animals at bay.
In the first morning light, she would set out back to her den and her pups. Behind her, a young woman with hair as red as the flames of the night before’s fire and eyes the color of spring grass followed, a hand keeping her dress from touching the ground.
The she-wolf glanced back as she trotted on, sending a pulse of affection and gratitude back to the woman who had removed the arrow from her leg, leading the way back to her den.
She disappeared into the hole hidden behind an old log, returning moments later with a pup held by the scruff of it’s fur, padding over to the woman who had knelt in the leaves to drop the grey pup into the woman’s waiting hands. When the woman began to pet and play with the pup gently, the wolf bowed her head and vanished again, bringing her second pup out to join the first.
Look after them well. Please. The she-wolf thought, silently sending her question to the young woman in the form of a pulse of curiosity, waiting to see if she would get a response.
Sorcha’s quiet response was a pulse of reassurance and affection, a sense-bound promise to the she-wolf as she tucked the pups inside her cloak and thanked the wolf for her trust.
The Druid Princess would raise those wolf pups herself, treating them like family. Other wolves entrusted their pups to the druids over time, the packs soon leaving their territories in favor of Skye and Avalon where their kind were safe and respected. In exchange for food and affection from the humans, the wolves gave companionship and protection, guarding the isles of the Druids from anyone who dared breach the magicked barriers for selfish reasons.
These wolves are no longer found in Ireland, but whether they have truly gone extinct or still hide themselves away somewhere is anyone’s guess. The legend says that like the she-wolf, they recognize one of their own through their connection to the gifts of old Ireland.