Being outside Oollie is not so easy as I’m out of the dungeon’s border. I feel dizzy and disoriented, and I stutter back to Oollie.

Luckily, he takes me right in.

I feel the sense of urgency overcome me and we get up, and run after the wolf.

The only thing I can think of is what will happen if it eats one of the diamonds. Maybe it’s possessed, sent here to loot my treasures. Eat them and take them someplace else, leaving me to die.

But then, I doubt the hole in the wall is big enough for such a big creature to go through. It will have to claw the dirt and make the hole bigger. Yeah, that’s good. Still… I do not know how much time I have.

The wolf pays no attention to poor little me. It runs up the slope, between the last line of the trees, and to the luck I have, I see it is joined by another one.

Now, that’s twice the trouble, twice the speed, and the urgency to get back to the Dungeon right away burns me.

So we move fast to get out of the forest, and of course, I see there are two more wolves, running up the steep trail that leads straight to the Dungeon Main Entrance.

“Everything comes in four around here?” I ask.

I turn around, not sure I will not see any more of them, maybe some even at my back, hiding in my blind spot and ready to jump on me.

But, there is nothing there except long grass. and uneasiness and fear that are steadily growing inside of me. So I head up on a double.

And as I look up, just entering the cave, only a few meters in front of the running wolves are two… I thought dwarfs, but my eyes do not lie to me. Those are not dwarfs. Those are small, thin, and frail, with no long messy beards coming down their bellies. And as one of them turns around, I see a scared face of a young boy, staring at the charging wolves.

I do not know what to think now. Maybe the wolves are not after my treasure at all, but after those kids. As I run, I do not know what to feel as well. Happy that my treasure might be safe, sad that those kids will most likely be torn apart?

I speed up my ascent toward the dungeon, cursing myself for being so careless, my little legs carrying me faster than I thought was possible.

Still, I am composed enough to pick a piece of fallen wood, a dry branch. It looks frail and will probably shatter if I hit anything with it. But it’s the best I can do. And a stone. Find a large one next to my feet, just big enough to fit in my hand.

Two kids disappear inside the cave with the four-pack of wolves hot on their heels, and I lose my breath climbing up.

It takes what seems forever to get back in, but once I’m in, I know I’m not too late. I hear them growling, not feasting. The wolves have cornered the kids on the far left side, circling them.

There is a girl, her long blond hair clearly visible behind a boy who stands in front of her, protecting her. The boy is brave, yelling something at the wolves, swinging the stick in his hand, trying to stave them off. But that scares them not.

All the wolves' eyes are on them. And they slowly move on them, especially the one with a white stripe on his head, appearing to be a tiny bit bigger than the rest. Might be their leader.

I am not afraid of wolves.

But I still approach them cautiously. And they seem not to notice me and pay me no attention.

Still, looking through the eyes of Oollie and his height, they are gigantic, raising over me, with their jaws and fangs bigger than my hand.

I accept that one bite and more than half of Oollie's body would be gone. I do not need to see that happen.

But Oollie is not some newborn. He can freaken’ bench more than I can, at my best days. So, I step forward.

In my mind, the wolf is not scarier than a big dog showing me its teeth. A few years back, I ran into an unleashed dog who attacked an old lady walking next to my house. It did not end well for that dog.

Later on, the owner of the dog tried to sue me. And since I love dogs, and I hated what I had to do to the one who had the bad fortune of having that asshole for the owner, we settled out of court. Maybe when he dies, I’ll look up his soul. I know exactly where I would put it.

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All of that went through my head, remembering how I hit the dog with my trimming shears that I found in my hands, and when he let go of the old lady’s leg and snapped its jaw around my hand, I had no other choice but to drill the shears inside its neck.

Except now, I have no shears, not even the handle of a shear. I don't know what to do, but as one of the wolves goes for and bites into the kid's leg, all decisions have already been made.

I throw a rock at him, hitting him straight in his head, then jump and land the branch over the behind of the wolf closest to me, spanking him so hard it makes him jump up, squealing, but smashing my only weapon in the process just as I feared.

Instantly, they lose interest in the kids and turn around to face me. Slowly, trying to circle me around. Growling. Showing their teeth. Hungry saliva dripping from their gaping mouths.

I have to back down. Back to the dungeon tunnel, calling myself a fool and other derogative names as I see a shovel and a pick next to the cave doors where we left them. But I can’t go there. I would be dead if I charge them or turn my back on them. So, down the tunnel, we go.

After we make the first curve, one of them jumps at me, and I duck, roll over the ground, then jump at the wall and pick a light torch. And as it snaps at me again and tries to bite me, I burn its nose when I smack it with the fire-burning end of the torch.

The other ones are more cautious now. But all three of them are coming at me, the burned nose one deciding to stay behind. And I have to move backward facing them, one little step at a time, waiving the torch in front of me to defend myself.

We move slowly toward the other cave, but I do not want to get in it. There, they would have space to attack me from all sides.

So, I put a torch toward the ground and wait for them to come. Then I call on the wind from the Windy City. The cold air comes our way and it blows out all the lights in the tunnel.

I can not see perfectly, but good enough to make shapes. Their eyes cannot adjust so fast. I do not wait for that to happen.

I smack the leader who advanced at me with the shut-off torch, holding it with both hands as if it were a baseball bat. I hit him so hard on the jaw that his body spins and knocks into the wolf next to him.

Another one runs disoriented into the opposite wall himself, and I hit his front leg, making him squeal. He tries to limp away from me when I smack his behind, hurrying him along. The other one gets scared and lowers his head down to the ground, and I nail his head further in the ground by smacking it straight on top.

I wave a few more times, hitting them here and there, yelling at them in the process.

Soon they all are all squealing, and then, when their eyesight gets adjusted enough, they find to run back to where they came from.

Little me yell and chase after them, smacking their behinds every chance I get, not letting them stop and turn around.

"Bad, wolvies!" I scream after them, even pick a rock and throw at one’s head, connecting it perfectly for another squealing cry.

As they jump through the cave opening and disappear, I go back to look at the kids.

They seem so scared. Makes my heart sink. Their fear is so palpable, in their trembling little bodies, in them clinching so tightly with each other, in their big, begging eyes... It makes me upset I ever let that happen.

It is upsetting me to see them so hurt and shivering. Reminds me of my own. I need to help them, to do something, or else I will just sit down, break down, and cry.

I certainly do not want to scare them further. I need to be strong. And smart. And think.

So, first, I look for heat and fire up the torch once again, raising it high above my head so they can see me properly.

Then I try to hum some kid song, ‘Do You Know the Muffin Man’ popping first in my head.

Humming it happily, I hop from one leg to another and approach them.

“Hey! What are the two of you doing here?” I ask them as if I see them for the first time. “Did those bad wolvies scare you?”

They do not answer.

“Are you okay?”

No answer.

“Don’t worry. I will not hurt you.”

They look at me, but now at least, I can see them breathing.

“Do not need to worry about big bad wolves anymore either. They are gone. Hope it’s for good. And if they come back, I know what to do with them. Either way, don’t worry.” I get talkative. It’s been a while since I talked to another human being. So, I just open up and start talking gibberish.

“Who are you?” the girl suddenly asks me. Well, they ask Oollie. But he can only give them ‘Bubbu, babba, lubba,’ answer. So, I better explain.

“Someone who you do not need to be afraid of,” I say, happy that I found the most perfect answer.

“Are the wolves going to come back after us?”

“I don’t think so. But, if they do, they'll be sorry. Really sorry. Big bad wolves. We'll catch them, make a carpet out of them.”

That calms them down.

“My father has a coat made of wolf skin,” the girl says.

“Yeah, I bet it’s nice and warm.”

“Yes, it is. My big brother has one too. He covered me with it once during the winter night,” the boy adds.

“Do you live here?” the girl asks.

I nod my head.

“But we heard this place is evil.”

“Do I look evil?” I even blink my big eyes at them repeatedly, stare at them with my big eyes, and smile just a bit. Then I do something crazy, like a summersault. I actually complete it just fine. It surprises me to the point that I say, “Wheee!” and encourages me to try it again. Then I do, but end up on my ass.

“Oops, that hurts,” I yelp as I rub my butt. “Sorry, Oollie. We will not try that again.” I keep rubbing my butt really hard, trying to get the pain to go away, making faces at the same time.

That makes them giggle.

“You better let me see your wound,” I say to the kid who is holding his leg, a trace of blood dripping there.

When he lets go of it, a lot of blood comes out. It’s a nasty bite.

“Shit. We need to take care of this,” I say, without a clue how to do that.

I have no supplies. If I did, I would have taken care of it and stopped the bleeding before rushed the kid to the emergency room. He would need stitches for sure. And all the shots against rabies and stuff.

But in this neck of the woods, I reckon, they will not hear about an emergency room for another few hundred years. It's all on me. And I have no supplies.

Or do I??

I think hard. Have to stay positive.

I mean, if I can create a living creature as cute as Oollie, why not a bunch of cotton pads and bandages? How hard can that be?