Vrangr

• Zaphiya Irvine-wieland, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2020

Vrangr crept through the forest, the looming, arching oaks towering above him. An owl hooted somewhere nearby, but Vrangr pressed on. It was late, and he was tired. His feet crunched against dried leaves and on twigs, startling some creature in the trees nearby. He paused for breath, leaning on the trunk of a twisted pine. He felt like his feet were bricks, his shoulders metal and his head slime. After a few moments, he tried to go on, but fell onto the ground. With a crying yelp, his legs were mush and the forest a blur. He growled at his legs and limbs, they had failed him. But now that he was still, he could see the forest more clearly.
Directly along the unused path he was taking, there was a lion, proud and tall, his pelt glowing with a long, shaggy mane. His eyes were fierce and strong and his legs were large and muscular. Vrangr sniffed, was he greater than a wolf? He asked himself. He looked away from the lion and stared at the dark, foul smelling berries that clung to the bushes with ease. They didn't look healthy; in fact, nothing here did. His eyes darted back to the lion, who had moved a step closer.
"Who are you?" Vrangr asked, his voice small and weak compared to the lion's strong, booming voice.
"I'm am me, Vrangr." The lion growled.
"And who, exactly, is that?" Vrangr asked, still lying on the ground.
"Lion."
"You could call me Wolf,"
"I could," Lion moved up closer until he was only metres away. "But you aren't fit for a name so simple."
Vrangr managed to get to his feet, trying to move closer to Lion. "Oh?"
"What wolf comes here alone?" Lion retailiated.
"What lion lives in the forest?" Snapped Vrangr, becoming increasingly impatient.
"A lion who isn't afraid to go somewhere else. Do I see you aren't in the Savannah?"
"You do. But how did you even get here, when you should be Africa and I in America?"
"They both start with A," said Lion, moving closer now. Vrangr tensed, not saying anything. A foul smelling berry might make him turn tail. Keeping his eyes on the lion, he kicked a berry out of a bush, flinging into Lion's face. He seemed unnerved by the motion, continuing steadily.
Panic stricken, Vrangr tried to run, but his limbs refused and he fell onto the crumbly dirt with a thump.
"Go into the Savannah, Wolf. You are brave to take your eyes off me."
"How-"
"Go."
"But where-"
"There," snarled Lion, impatient.
Vrangr was in the Savannah now. Where, he did not know. He tried to go back, to get vengeance, but he never did.