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Sparrow and Bright
Interlude: Uncle Ulvar

Interlude: Uncle Ulvar

Brunhilde pushed her hands against the warm slate of the roof. The baking heat of the summer sun was still leaking out, keeping her warm in the cooler night. Hope was fast asleep in the attic below her, but Brunhilde could not rest after the battle. She stood vigil on the roof, listening to the distant cries of celebration.

She heard a scraping sound and turned to see Marid, climbing out onto the roof.

“You can’t sleep?” she said quietly to him.

He shook his head. His eyes were dark rimmed.

“Come and sit with me.” She patted the roof and he edged over to sit besides her.

Despite the warmth, he was shivering against her.

“You’re still scared?”

“No.” He tensed himself to quiet his tremors, but she could still feel them shaking him.

“Well, I am. There could be more of those things out there. There’s no shame in fear.”

He relaxed at these words. “Are you really scared?” He looked up at her, she was a mountain of a woman, scarred by battle and stronger than any human he had met. But still, she looked out over the city with concern on her face.

“Of course. When you cook meat over a fire does that mean you can’t get burned yourself? Fear is like fire. Master it, and you can use it as a tool, but it still burns. Listen to my story about my Uncle Ulvar.”

Brunhilde turned to face him, and her eyes lit up as she started the tale.

“Now Uncle Ulvar was a strong man, tall and thin like a tree and a master of climbing mountains. He could climb higher than anyone else. The only problem is that he was afraid, of everything. When the wind blew he was afraid of a tree falling on him, when the rain fell he was afraid of catching a cold, when birds sang he was afraid of wolves finding him.

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One day, Uncle Ulvar went climbing up into the mountains to hunt for furs, and he came across a big mountain goat. The mountain goat was chewing grass and he eyed my Uncle Ulvar, and bleated a threat. And though the goat was in his way, Uncle Ulvar turned and ran off the path, right into some thorny bushes. The goat went back to eating his grass, and Uncle Ulvar was stuck in a thorny bush. He had to pull himself out, and take the long way around the goat up the mountain.

So he was tired and scratched, and he took a rest by a tree. Only he heard a strange noise. He looked up, and saw a squirrel, stuck in the tree. The poor thing stuck its head into a knothole, and couldn’t get out. So he prised the thing out, and to his surprise, the squirrel spoke. It granted him a wish for being so kind.

And what did Uncle Ulvar wish for? To never be scared again. The squirrel waved its tail and wrinkled its nose, and so it was that Uncle Ulvar’s breast puffed up and all fear disappeared. He forgot about hunting, and ran back down the mountain, to face the mountain goat that humiliated him.

He found the goat, chewing on grass, and the beast bleated with its gruff voice. But this time, Uncle Ulvar didn’t shake or quiver. The goat lowered his head, and stamped his foot. So what did Uncle Ulvar do? He stamped his foot and lowered his head.

Then the goat charged. And this time, instead of jumping into a thorny bush, Uncle Ulvar charged. They bashed heads, and Uncle Ulvar dropped down dead.”

Brunhilde slammed her fists together, to represent the meeting of ram and human head.

“So you see? Being afraid of things that can hurt you is sensible. What you do with that fear is your choice. Uncle Ulvar didn’t have to jump into a thorny bush when the goat bleated at him. He was so afraid of the goat’s horns that he let its voice hurt him. And when he forgot his fear he forgot that you shouldn’t butt heads with a goat.”

“He was pretty stupid to charge a goat. He should have wished for goat horns.”

“Ha ha, yes! Use a shield or club if you have to face a goat. Or stand before a thorny bush and let it charge right past you.” Brunhilde tousled Marid’s hair. “You can go to sleep now, I’ll be keeping watch.”

“I’ll stay with you and watch.” He was already half asleep against her, all the tension had gone from him. In a matter of moments he fell asleep completely, and Brunhilde continued her watch with Marid snoring beside her.

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