Legend Of Eowyn

• Jessie Drummond, Grade 12
• Short Story
• 2016

Paw prints disturbed the soil, the prints were larger, much larger than any predator known to man, the Iroquoian Chief grinned triumphantly; he, his sons and fellow tribesmen had travelled night and day through the cold, tracking the beast that had been plaguing their lands and killing their people, for weeks they had slept in makeshift tents, the only food was whatever they had caught the night before, and today they had finally found it.
The beast had travelled across the woodlands, barely stopping to hunt, Adahy, Chief Dichali’s son and the most gifted tracker in their tribe had suspected the beast had been travelling towards Ohio River, the Chief, trusting his youngest sons judgement had moved onwards, reaching the River before the beast did, the other tribesmen doubted Adahy until the beast had traipsed out of the tree line not an hour ago.
It was a private section of the River, tucked far from straying eyes, boulders of rocks acted as a camouflage, hiding the rickety old cabin that looked hand built, most likely abandoned. It was the perfect den for the beast, a place no-one could stumble upon accidentally. Chief Dichali silently praised his son for his intuition.
Chief Dichali watched from where they hid in the trees branches, the beast was ginormous, larger than the stallion his wife owned, its fur was a matted brown coated in dirt and leaves, powerful muscles bunched beneath its coat as its head dipped to drink from the River. It was unlike any wolf Dichali had ever seen.
Tribesmen shifted, impatient. Every man stilled as the beast’s body froze, its body turning faster than anything they’d seen before. Monstrous yellow eyes scanned the horizon, searching for a threat; breaths held as the men prayed the monster did not glance up, the gods answered as the beast relaxed.
Adahy shifted impatiently, his father, the Chief had yet to acknowledge a signal for attack and Adahy was growing impatient, the fury that wracked through his body was unstoppable as the memories of his wife’s mutilated body filled his mind, the rage would not stop, would not go away until the beast had paid. He was done waiting.
The beast howled.
Dichali grabbed his sons shoulder managing to stop him. The men watched as the beasts body shuddered violently, its legs buckled from beneath it slumping against the dirt, a pained whine filled the air. It appeared weak though Dichali could not see a wound located on its body. A crack filled the air. The men watched, horrified, as the sound of bones broke and convulsions filled he beasts entire being.
Fur slowly rescinded, replaced with skin, paws replaced with arms and legs, the woman stood as if nothing happened, naked as the day she was born, her soot black hair hung down the length of her back, milky blue eyes stared directly into the eyes of Dichali before she turned and disappeared into the cabin, the door closing as a myth was born.