*mew?*

"Well.  Hello there, little one!"

*mew?*

"Looks like you've been in a nasty fight."  Now that was an understatement.  A ripped ear, gouge in the throat, heavy claw marks across the back shoulders, and I think broken ribs.

*mau!*

"Should see the other guy?"  Damn, she needs help. I wonder if she'll let me?

*purr*

"How about I take you to an emergency vet for help?"

*HISSS!*

Claws out and blazing yellow eyes!  Yipe!  "Okay!  Message received!  My place and you put up with my thumb fingered best?"

*purr purr purr*

Plan accepted, I set my walking stick against a tree.  The woods *are* lovely, dark, and deep.  They also provide what I need to turn my jacket into a sort-of cat litter.  Not that I'd mind carrying her, but she's badly hurt.  I'd hate to make her hurt any more.  I place my rough construction on the ground.  Just my jacket zipped up with the sleeves inside, and two stout sticks run through the sleeves.  She looks at it and loafs herself in it perfectly.

*purrrr*

"I hope this is less painful than me carrying you in my arms."  Sad yellow eyes.

*mau*

"Here we go."  I don't grab the ends.  I lift the branches from the middle until I can take them in one hand and lift the litter.  Not a peep out of her.  I know that hurt, but not a peep.  "Brave, little one.  I'll do my best for you."  Better move as fast as I can, without swinging her around.

"Hey, mister!  You need any help?"

A kindly lad, but "Thanks for asking, but I've got it."

"Okay, take care.  There are strangers in the wood today.  Didn't like the look of them."

"Thanks for the warning.  You be careful too."

"I will."

And we part our ways.

Three-quarters of the way home, and another encounter.  This one twangs my nerves.  Whispered, "by the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes."  A nearly silent growl is little one's response.  Unkempt.  Scratched and bloody.

"I'll help you with that."

*hisss*

"You'll do no such thing.  Leave us be, or you'll have a taste of my walking stick."

He glances at it with a sneer on his face, only to go pale and take a longer look.  His eyes are frightened when he looks at me again.

"Meaning no disrespect, Mister.  If you allow, I'll be on my way."  He turns and runs away.

I take a moment to glance at my staff.  It's an oak branch from an old tree blasted to flinders by lightning one terrible night.  I thought it fitting that such a grand tree have a second chance.

…—… Long Ago …—…

*"I'd like to have a straight, stout branch to make a walking stick from.  You deserve a chance to keep helping people, other than as firewood."* A crack, and this branch, just the right size, dropped at my feet.

*"Thank you for your gift."*  I picked it up and took it home.  It dried straight and true.  I smoothed it with sand and stone as was done of old.  I might have left it that way, but something moved me to work on it more.  Thinking about it, I studied symbology and carved glyphs of power, good fortune, and protection into it.  Those I inlayed with cold iron wire.  The whole was well rubbed with linseed oil to a high polish.

*"I hope this meets with your approval."*  I swear, for a moment, it felt as if something ancient covered me with its hands.

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

Before you ask, no, I am not a practitioner of the arts.  Unlike many, I do not hold them in contempt.  "An it harm none, do as ye please" seems as good a life rule as any, and not as dominating as most.  You have more to fear from those who insist you live *their* way than from anyone who holds to that creed.

From that day forward, I never left my house without it.  I received many compliments from most of the town, except those I knew to be heavily involved with patriarchal religions.  They used to be pleasant towards me; now they were at best brusk, and often rude.

One of them took me aside, not unkindly, and suggested that the staff was inappropriate.  *"Why?"*  He looked at me sadly.  *"Those carvings, for all that they are exquisitely done, are evil."*  I was amused.  *"Do you know what they stand for?"*  He responded that he did not.  I invited him for a pint, and he accepted.

While we sat in that quiet pub, I explained the meaning and origin of each of those symbols.  He was both interested and troubled.  *"You seem troubled. May I help?"*  He looked at me.  *"You already have.  The trouble is within me.  I cannot resolve the teachings of my religion with the things you have told me."*  A crisis of conscience then.  *"Follow your heart."*  Was the only advice I could give him.

We parted amicably and remained friendly.  I noticed him giving aid to those the rude ones ignored.  He came in for a share of their rudeness, publicly, and gave them better than he received. He was quoting scripture at them at how they should behave.  This only angered them more.  People of the town gathered behind him, saying nothing, doing nothing, but providing him their support nonetheless.

I stood to the side, between them, and in reach of my walking stick.  When one of the rude ones made to step forward with raised hand.  My stick snapped up between them.  *Thus far, and no farther,* was the message.  The rude ones grew angry and tried to snatch the stick from my grasp.  I do not know how it happened, but between that walking stick and myself, we avoided every attempt to take it away.  Never once touching them with it, never allowing them to touch it or lay hands on me.

As they grew winded, the town folk were laughing.  I began to smile.  A bemused sort of smile, not quite understanding what was happening, just keeping them from taking my stick.

The constables found it less than amusing for a bunch of self-righteous twits trying to take an older man's walking staff.  Yes, age was catching up with me, but the doctor was always praising me for staying fit.

From that day forward, the rude ones ignored me, their leader apologized for their behavior, and many of the townsfolk would ask my advice on simple matters.  I was met with smiles and greetings, and never saw the rude ones again save for fleeting moments until they noticed me and found other places to be.

When I retired, I spent even more time in the common wood.  People began to seek me out in the wood.  As we walked, we talked, and they always left in better state than they came.  I learned that wood and all that it contained—so many things of interest.  The youngsters who enjoyed the wood came to ask me about what they saw in that wood.  I answered with the truth, and they learned how important the wood was to the town and the people.

…—… Now …—…

Finally, little one and I have reached my cottage.  I set her litter gently on the kitchen table, got out what simple bandages I had, and applied first aid principles to my treatment.

Throughout, little one took it all without complaint, moving just as I needed her to so that I could clean and bandage her wounds.

"Rest, little one; no one will disturb you here,"  while setting out a saucer of milk.

*purrrrr purr purr*

I left her with a thick cushion and went to bed—my staff at her side.

…—… The Next Day …—…

"Good Morning."

That was not a voice I knew, and female too.  My eyes snapped open—a whole troop of women from young to old, dressed in simple skirts of black cloth, surrounded my bed.

I looked at them as they looked at me.  "Good Morning," I responded.  "May I have some time to make myself presentable?"  I saw little one smuggled in the arms of one of the younger ladies.  The eldest nodded, the others filed out of my bedroom.

I made my hasty toilet and came out to meet them.  Only the eldest and the younger with little one snuggled close remained.  Just as well, the entire troop would have crowded us badly.  Sitting at my usual place at the table was my walking stick and the light breakfast I was accustomed to.  They had simple cups of tea that were not in any of my mugs.

They waited quietly until I had finished, politely turning down my offers of breakfast for them.

"My cat wants to adopt you, so you're one of us now."  The younger one announced.  The eldest gently asked her to leave, and so she did.

"She is young and a bit cheeky, but her heart is in the right place.  Yes, her cat has asked to adopt you, which would make you part of our circle, but you do not have to accept."

I ponder this.  "What is your first rule?"

"An it harm none, do as ye will."

I do not know where the rest of the questions came from, but my hand rested on my stick without conscious thought.  The answers were straightforward and rang true.

We sat together after that, she waiting patiently for my answer, me pondering what to do.  Honestly, it may have felt like hours, but it was no more than a minute.

"I am pleased to accept."

There was a quiet cheer from outside, which got both of us to smile.  In the coming months and years, people saw me speaking with those ladies in the wood.  Where they had shunned them before, they now would talk to them politely.  Soon enough, the ladies in black were as sought for wisdom as I was.  The commons became a thoughtful retreat for the older townsfolk and a safe playground for the children.  Their gleeful laughter added to the peace of the common woods.

Even the religious leader came to walk there and speak to all.  I talked with him one day.

"Wisdom comes from many places if your heart is open and your mind as well."

The rude ones shortly left the town, always for a job elsewhere that paid better.  It was sad to see them go; their hearts and minds still closed.

((finis))

*Edited:  added explicit time breaks.  Some folk were having a bit of trouble.*

*Moving: I've started transfer to RoyalRoad.com.*