Naught was it in an ereyester but rather in a time long past in those days of yore. Alwhere in those long forgotten times did the wolven head warriors themselves in the blood of endless foes did bathe, long sought for their dought and ellenmearth. The ground was not seen upon those faughtenfields where they brandished their deathbringers, striking fear into the forbowed hearts of the unlucky living.
Now in our anward, the Wolfheads have taken themselves unto their homes in the northern forests, living among and akin to the wilder. Erenow the people fear from foes of unwist tongues from the lands of Germany and Italia, infaring now upon the land of the folker.
They a bode did send unto those bestial dright, “O ye dringer, we thie that ye would neer and unyoke us from our heavyhanded, swere fangmen who grieve us so; yon strength and ord of swords fern we need.”
The bodesman fared for a halfyear and then wandered the northern forest for another, singing his bode like the birds do their oughten gale. Until he found a swain of the Wolfheads, “O ye! Thy markings lie not! Heardest thou not my loathsome wailing, or was it for thee that you would be my bode ignoring?”
The young Wolfhead lyfted his head not and bade no heed to the bodesman, instead he dug like a altherwildest beast unto the dead leaves and pineneedles beliding the ground.
“Child! Unheed not to my words, upon our lands the Romans now gang! But not thou nor yer kinsmen these tidings kennest, for ye have forsook the seemly life and become wildmen, the altherfoulest of men.”
The young one heaved his head from the snow, “Bodesman! Do not hux me nor my kin, lest ye desiren your head to lie in this hole. Now tell me, what do mine or I know of Rome or its folker? Have the skins of the folk become thin and brittle, that they not their own hilder wye? That they a forold bodesman fise to coax the Wolfhead to neer them?” The young man cackled at the disheartened bodesman.
The bodesman, wrought of age, had lived erenow a yearhundred, he grew weary, and wished not to die at the hands of Romans.
“O young wolf! I beseech thee that thou takest me to yer kinsmen, that I may meel with yer chief.”
The young one swiveled and beckoned the bodesman to follow him.
The old bodesman followed in tow through the frozen forest, not until now did the young wolf’s nakedness become aseen, only a loincloth to cover him notwithstanding the harsh and rough wilderness. The bodesman himself was coldrife, frost ladened and cracked his rosie face, yet the youth stayed unrined.
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Yor night the bodesman and young wolf bided under a cliff and made fire.
“I shall seek us food, so freten thyself not, O bodesman.”
The bodesman wrinkled his eyebrows and examined the youth, “I see not a sax nor spear for you to hunt with?”
“Such is for those men unaraded in huntsmanship.”
The young wolf then betook himself unto the forest for a while, and upon his yencome he held rabbits he had weathed with naught but his own nose and hander and wit.
“My hand is enough for a shedder between living and dead, O ye bodesman.”
“I see now,” began the bodesman, “Is it such that the Wolfheads loathend the folkways and churly goings on of everyday life in the wicks and towns?”
“Thou would be right in thy foreguess, but the foredeeming of men passeth except for little, hure about those they deem as bereft of thought and reason or nether to themselves.”
“Not was my want to grill you with my outburst of forewords upon our meeting, no misdeed did I foremind against thee or thy kin, I would ask for thy forgiveness.” The bodesman held out his hand to the young wolf.
“Those ferupset by such grilling are unfit for this path, the Path of the Wolf, my skin is hardened by this here abode among the snow and wood; the wolf is unrined by any grilling sent upon him, so why would thy saying rine I?”
The bodesman nodded his head and placed his hand on his breast and louted out of eathmoodness, “Notwithstanding this, I would hope that ye showen I longmoodness and not howen me as heedless.”
“Lyft thy head, bodesman; Mine nor I’re men who like such handness, so spare us yer nought matheling.”
The sun began to set and the sky nightened quickly, as the days were short and the nights were short in this frozen north.
The bodesman’s back creaked and cracked, hunched was he from years of boding throughout the land and marker, he slept with his back against a stone, lest he be unable to heave himself from the ground upon his waking.
Yet the young wolf curled himself like the wilder do, with naught but his cloth. The bodesman, awake still, began to think and forstood the byspel between he and the young one. The strength of such wolven hardness made the bodesman ashamed of his own lowliness when likened to their ellenmearth, for he there were no heroic deeds nor tales of his lofedeeds or streak. No gotheman nor heleth was he.
“Forsooth, I am only a forold, ofold, and bare bodesman, with nary a name to be mymoried, nor childer to weep for I, nor a woman to heam when happy nor to hean me when I misdeed. For and by my folk have I gone on, worthed, and been; that not a day where I lay my head has come, now do I tween its yercoming, now do I reach out for a forsaken hope. My back hath bent from gloom, and my eyes saggen from restless nights unrimed.”
Looking to the young wolf, he continued, “To be so free, to live in such peace with the earth, at such peace with wyrd. Sickerly, woe is I! Death seeketh me, no kin nor young with my name, nor even a name I can mun! Who is more poor than I?!”
Tears gan to fall from his eyes and ek a faint whimper rung, until he cast adrift into an unblithe slumber.