incandescens (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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31_days2008-12-01 11:57 am
incandescens) wrote in 31_days2008-12-01 11:57 am
across the mountains (original folk tale)
(I have no idea where this came from. I blame too much watching of Princess Tutu yesterday.)
Title: across the mountains
Day/Theme: 1) let snow and silence mark the site of my unseemly appetite
Series: original folk tale
Character/Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Mukashi mukashi . . .
Once upon a time there was a woman who was journeying across the mountains by night. It grew colder and colder till at last she had to seek shelter at the home of an old woodcarver.
"This is no good," he said. "Your arms and legs are frostbitten. You won't make it to the other side of the mountain."
"But I have to get there by dawn," the woman said. "Is there any way that you can help me?"
The old woodcutter frowned. "I can make you legs and arms of wood. They will not be frostbitten and you can travel through the night with them safely."
So he carved her new legs and arms while she sat by the fire, and he took her frostbitten flesh and put it in the barn to wait until she should come back that way.
The woman went back out into the night. Now three wolves was following her, but when they came to the woodcutter's house, they paused.
"I can smell fresh meat in the barn," the first wolf said. "I will wait here and eat that."
"I can only smell wood on the tracks that lead from here," the second wolf said. "That isn't worth following, and I will go home and sleep instead."
But the third wolf followed the wooden tracks across the snow until the third hour after midnight, when he caught up with the woman with her wooden arms and legs.
"Why are you following me?" the woman asked. "I am half wood and not worth eating."
"I will eat the half of you that is not wood," the wolf said. "But I will let the other half go if you like."
So he ate the half of the woman that was not wood, but her wooden legs and arms kept on walking over the mountain. And when they reached the other side of the mountain, it was dawn, but the wooden legs and arms could not remember why they had come. So they took root in the soil and grew to make a tree. And when the wind blew in the tree's branches, they sang, "Where are my eyes? Where is my heart?"
But the wolves never answered.
Title: across the mountains
Day/Theme: 1) let snow and silence mark the site of my unseemly appetite
Series: original folk tale
Character/Pairing: None
Rating: PG
Mukashi mukashi . . .
Once upon a time there was a woman who was journeying across the mountains by night. It grew colder and colder till at last she had to seek shelter at the home of an old woodcarver.
"This is no good," he said. "Your arms and legs are frostbitten. You won't make it to the other side of the mountain."
"But I have to get there by dawn," the woman said. "Is there any way that you can help me?"
The old woodcutter frowned. "I can make you legs and arms of wood. They will not be frostbitten and you can travel through the night with them safely."
So he carved her new legs and arms while she sat by the fire, and he took her frostbitten flesh and put it in the barn to wait until she should come back that way.
The woman went back out into the night. Now three wolves was following her, but when they came to the woodcutter's house, they paused.
"I can smell fresh meat in the barn," the first wolf said. "I will wait here and eat that."
"I can only smell wood on the tracks that lead from here," the second wolf said. "That isn't worth following, and I will go home and sleep instead."
But the third wolf followed the wooden tracks across the snow until the third hour after midnight, when he caught up with the woman with her wooden arms and legs.
"Why are you following me?" the woman asked. "I am half wood and not worth eating."
"I will eat the half of you that is not wood," the wolf said. "But I will let the other half go if you like."
So he ate the half of the woman that was not wood, but her wooden legs and arms kept on walking over the mountain. And when they reached the other side of the mountain, it was dawn, but the wooden legs and arms could not remember why they had come. So they took root in the soil and grew to make a tree. And when the wind blew in the tree's branches, they sang, "Where are my eyes? Where is my heart?"
But the wolves never answered.