“What can you do for me?” He asked again. “The hand of a boy isn’t going to do anything but whet my appetite and you can’t hunt and feed me better than I can feed myself,” he observed.
“Right…” Stellan stalled as he tried to imagine what a giant wolf could possibly need. “I can help with…your other needs. I swear, I can be useful to you,” he said and Fenrir’s red eyes pinned Stellan.
“What use? I need food and shelter. I have that,” he barked back.
“Give me a chance and I’ll show you. You’ve let me live this long. What do you have to lose?” Stellan argued and earned a surprised snort from Fenrir.
“You have amused me,” he conceded and gave Stellan a shove. “Get inside the cave,” he ordered and Stellan felt a rush of relief and hope.
“You’re not going to kill me?”
“Not at the moment. I’m not particularly hungry and I want to see what you’re going to do next,” Fenrir said with a swing of his head. “In the cave.”
“Ok!” Stellan squeaked and leaned as he tiptoed closer for a better look.
“Get in there before I change my mind,” the beast repeated gruffly so Stellan took a deep breath before he stumbled into the mouth of the cavern and was swallowed by darkness.
6
“Sorry!” Stellan whispered when he tripped into the wolf for the third time. “I can’t see a thing!” He confessed and earned a bored snort from Fenrir. The floor of the cave was uneven and Stellan’s foot caught on things he hoped were twigs and branches.
“You’ll probably be wanting a fire,” the wolf muttered. Stellan winced and shrugged bravely.
“I don’t want to be any trouble but I also don’t want to freeze to death while I’m sleeping. You might as well eat me while I’m hot,” he joked, then hoped Fenrir had a sense of humor. “You might enjoy the warmth. I could keep a fire going in here,” he said, assuming that would appeal to a wolf. Fire and food attracted wolves to men and caused them to evolve into dogs.
“I know how to make a fire.”
“Oh! Great…” Stellan said as he squinted around them. They’d reached what felt like a wide bend and it smelled strongly of Fenrir. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, like dog and moss and other green things.
“You can make one here but you don’t need to worry about freezing. You’ll sleep with me. I can’t have you sneaking away to set a trap or go back for that rifle,” Fenrir declared and Stellan nodded quickly.
“That’ll work,” he replied shakily. The only way Stellan could escape was if he could get away and make it back to Jötunndal but there was no telling what Fritjof would do. It didn’t seem likely that he’d order Gustav to bring the boat around and take Stellan back to Sæbø. Survival was his sole focus at the moment but revenge wasn’t far behind on Stellan’s agenda so earning the wolf’s trust and favor seemed like a good tactic all around. “I’m pretty handy at cooking on a campfire! I bet it’s been a while since you’ve had cooked food,” he guessed cheerfully. Stellan was terrible in the kitchen but he was competent enough to impress a giant dog, he hoped.
“About a millennium, I’d say,” Fenrir replied dryly but Stellan gasped and latched onto the idea.
“That’s a start! I can tidy this place up and cook!” He suggested and Fenrir growled dubiously.
“It would take all the hours of the day and a fire as big as this cave for you to prepare enough food to satisfy me. Feed yourself and toss whatever you don’t finish my way. If you last that long,” he mused but Stellan wouldn’t let that dent his optimism. Wrath was a hell of a motivator. Gay wrath would make Stellan invincible. He wouldn’t rest until Fritjof got what he had coming to him.
“Don’t underestimate me! When do we eat?” Stellan asked and the wolf chuckled.
“You do have a lot of nerve, boy. I’ll give you that,” he said and lowered. “Let’s go.”
“Go?” Stellan asked but he hurried forward, both enthralled and terrified at the thought of mounting the giant creature.
“Get on. We’re going hunting,” Fenrir declared and his head swung impatiently.
“Awesome,” Stellan whispered and drew closer on shaking legs. He paused when he was close enough to push his hands into Fenrir’s fur and spread them wide. He sent them over Fenrir’s back and sifted through the warm tufts and gasped at the heat and silkiness. He was so powerful and large but his fur mesmerized Stellan as he rubbed his cheek against the wolf’s side.
“Get up, boy!” Fenrir growled and Stellan jumped.
“Sorry,” he said and rose on his toes so he could swing his leg and slide it over Fenrir’s back. Stellan had to hop and winced as he reached for a handful of hair. “Sorry!” He whispered as he pulled himself up. “I hope that didn’t hurt,” he said and smothered a shriek as Fenrir shook beneath him on a laugh.
“You won’t hurt me. Hold on tight,” he said and Stellan grabbed fistfuls of fur as Fenrir rose.
“Are you sure?” He asked as he hugged Fenrir’s sides with his knees and held onto as much fur as he could.
“I can barely feel you,” Fenrir said, then lunged out of the cave and at the trees. The forest whipped past them and became a blur as Fenrir picked up speed. Stellan ducked and buried his face in Fenrir’s neck. The wind stung his ears and hands as they rushed through the woods and raced up the mountainside.