The Wolf's Hour

The Wolf’s Hour
A Story of Red Riding Hood
By Sharleen Daube

Once upon a time, in the deep depths of the underworld, there lived a prince. His name was Apparago. Young and handsome, Apparago ruled alongside his father over the souls of the underworld. Day by day, the years passed, and Apparago grew more and more disenchanted with the life he lived. He sat on his throne for hours dreaming about what lay above, the world his father had restricted him to ever visit.

“Apparago, my honorable son,
You have the power to do all you desire.
There are no restrictions, except for one
You may not ascend to the land that lay higher.
The land of sunshine and earth,
Of brightness and laughter,
Of pure joy, of deep warmth, of flowers,
If you visit this dangerous place above,
I will take back all your granted powers.”

Apparago swore obedience to his father’s wishes. Yet his mind swelled with curiosity of what this world, this dangerous and foreign world, held. Why his father had granted him power to do all he desires, but to never step foot into the land above. Questions filled Apparago until he had no choice but to feed his starving curiosity and see this world himself. He was soon to be king and had the right to be all knowing.
On a night when his father was distracted, Apparago slipped away and went to his fathers trusted and wisest of friends, Icawert. Icawert watched over the king’s grand chariot that would open the sky and allow him to enter the world above. It was his only means of escape. The prince approached Icawert and bowed down. Icawert’s ice cold eyes shrank in as a grand smile took form.

“Good night, good sir!
How howls your twilight?
Anything Icawert can do to your delight?”

Hunched over, Icawert rubbed together his stained black hands and peered up at the prince. Looking down at Icawert made the prince shudder in sickness. Icawert’s skin had taken on a grayish tint; wrinkled by hard work and stained by the darkness; the crevices of his face so deep and black. Yet all the elders of the underworld looked so. Apparago wondered if the elders in the land above were just as wrinkled and gray, such a ghastly sight to look upon. Apparago gave a sigh of despair and looked gloomily into the eyes of Icawert.

My night lacks any pleasure,
My heart aches in deepest measure
For my curiosity becomes louder a hum
And to it I must succumb
Or else suffer in such great dread
That I may be better off dead.”

Icawert, wise and all knowing, knew what Apparago spoke of. Over the years, Icawert had noticed the Prince’s behavior; his endless questions and state of depression from a lack of answers. Visiting the world above would fulfill Apparago’s curiosity. He was prince and his time for reigning was near. Icawert decided that the prince would reign a nobler king if he were to live from knowledge not gained from by his father, but knowledge that was conceived through his own tribulations in life. For all knowledge gained was good knowledge.




“Dearest Apparago
No more shall you walk in strife,
For I can see your hearts desires
And I can solve your wants in life.
The chariot is what you come for
And the chariot I shall provide
But in entering this world
You must do so in disguise.”

Apparago was to enter the land in disguise because the people of this place would not welcome him in his true identity. It was too dangerous a risk for the future king to take among a foreign land. So, in the midst of the night, Icawert prepared the chariot for the prince’s departure. When it was time for Apparago to depart, he turned and asked Icawert what disguise he would take on upon entering the world above.

“As you enter this world,
You will take mold
Of the first non-human creature
That you behold.”

Then, Apparago boarded the midnight black chariot. It then began to rise at such an incredible rate that Apparago feared for his life. Closer and closer to the top of the underworld they became, until the barrier lay only a mere few feet away. Suddenly, at a speed faster than the brightest of lights, the ceiling split and allowed the chariot just enough time to slip through before shutting back. Apparago was now in the land above.
The instant Apparago entered the world above, he shielded his eyes from the blinding brightness that shine over all the land; so bright was this light that Apparago felt his skin could sizzle away if exposed to it an instance more. But he was quickly adjusting, and was soon able to open his eyes. As he opened his eyes, exotic colors swirled round and round. He felt an immediate warmth that was unexplainable; a warmth and comfort Apparago had never dreamt of. He looked up into an endless ocean of blues and purples all weaved together by pure white formations. He fell back, overwhelmed by beauty. As he sat in awe, birds chirped to his delight, creating music that the prince closed his eyes to listen to, for it was rare and enchanting. There the prince lay for hours, taking in all the wonders this world held. This place his father had sworn so dreadful and evil gave Apparago the greatest sense of joy, something Apparago rarely felt.
Many hours passed. The birds had stopped chirping and the sun shining. In it’s place stood another ball of light that lit the world. The night became darker, the moon brighter. As Apparago further observed his surroundings, he heard a faint grown behind him. At first one, but then many. He turned to find himself being circled by a pack of hungry wolves. They moved in closer. And as Apparago observed the traits of these bizarre creatures, he soon found himself possessing them. He was now a wolf himself, having taken form of the first non-human creature he encountered.
As a wolf, Apparago ran the dense forest wildly from end to end and back again. He came across an open field that was dimly lit by moonlight and surrounded by giant, twinkling stars. In the middle of this field, magic was exploding. A young girl was dancing under the midnight sky, twirling and twirling in her hood that shined so brilliantly white. As Apparago watched the girl, the rustling leaves of the forest whispered,

“Colors bright, Colors lush
As she twirls
You hush, you hush.

The stars in sky, their magic swirling
Blinds you as
Shes twirling, twirling.



You stand lost,
Your grasp astray,
For all is still
As she twirls your way.

Wind blows strong
Her hood is whirling
And wraps you up
To join her twirling.”

Never before had Apparago seen such a creature. He watched the dancing girl in a trance like state, utterly absorbed by her beauty.

“In all my days of living
Have I never wanted more
That creature of sterling beauty
That I so long have searched for.
Her eyes so captivating
Her breasts so live and strong
There will never be another
Whom I want more to belong.”

When the girl finished dancing, she picked up a basket full of luscious flowers and began to head down a dark and narrow path. As she walked the path, Apparago followed closely behind, watching her every step in wonder. Suddenly the girl stopped, for in front of her stood a pack of hungry wolves that yearned for nothing more but the sweetness of her blood. A wolf moved closer. She slowly backed away. Another moved closer. Again, she backed away. They all began to draw in on her, moments away from striking their prey. As the first wolf jumped, its jaw open for the first bite, Apparago dived in its way and sank him teeth so deep into its neck that the hungry wolf died within moments from such a flowing stream of blood. There, right before the girl, Apparago fought the remaining wolves until they all lay around, dead. Apparago then accompanied the girl for the remainder of her journey, until he was assured that she was safe from harm. When she reached her destination, her grandmother’s cottage, the girl in the white hood turned and thanked Apparago for his comfort, gently kissed him on the head, and bid him goodnight. For the remainder of the night, Apparago slept at the doorstep of the cottage, awaiting the girl to once again bless him with her presence.
As time passed the girl learned to love the wolf. He accompanied her all she went and always kept her safe from harm. Even the girls grandmother took comfort in the wolf and often threw him fresh scraps of meat to eat.
One day, the girl disappeared from the cottage. Apparago searched for the girl throughout the woods, but she was nowhere to be found. He returned back to the cottage, hoping that upon seeing him, the grandmother would tell him of the girls whereabouts. He snuck in through grandmother’s open bedroom window. Inside the room, the old lady lay in bed, severely struck by illness. Yet she still had the strength to tell Apparago where the girl was.

“Dear creature of the night
If it’s my granddaughter you seek
I sent her to town for medicine
For I am ill and weak
But please do keep me company
And lay beside my bed
I don’t want to be lonesome
For these woods are full of dread.”

And so Apparago lay beside the grandmother and comforted her in her illness. Yet she grew more ill as time passed. The next morning, Apparago woke to find grandmother dead. He laid his head by hers and wept golden tears. As he grieved over her death, the lovely girl in the white hood had returned to the cottage. At the sight of her grandmother, the girl knew she was too late, and fell to the floor, drowning herself in tears. Louder and louder she wept, blaming herself for not arriving in time with the medicine. Apparago wrapped the girl in his soft fur and held her tight.
Yet within the woods, the girls cries were heard by a man who was busy hunting rabbit. He was friends with the girls grandmother, who often provided him sweet tea and cookies as he hunted. He knew the cries he heard belonged to the beautiful granddaughter of the old woman.
In the cottage, the lovely girl held Apparago as close as she could and whispered in his ear:

“Oh dear wolf, since my grandmother has died
I now more than ever will need you by my side
For you alone provide me such warmth and such cheer
Of all I love you most
With you I have no fear.”

Yet the girl did not finish her words, for shouting was heard outside the cottage. There the hunter stood, rifle in hand, pointed through grandmother’s open widow. The hunter saw the grandmother dead in bed and then saw the grandchild being attacked by the wolf that must have killed the old woman. Without hesitation, the hunter shot the wolf, the bullet going straight to his heart. And at that instant, Apparago died. Yet as he himself lay dead, his wolf disguise began to diminish as he took his true form as prince of the underworld. In seeing this, the girl’s heart broke into a million pieces, for she realized that the wolf, her true love, her protector and provider of happiness, was in fact a perfect prince who was just as in love with her. In sorrow, she held the prince tight as he bled from his open wound. And as he bled, the lovely girl held Apparago tight, until her hood was no longer white, but soaked in blood, a crimson red.
And for the remainder of her days, the girl strode the woods in her red hood, awaiting the day that she would pass away and meet her prince in the world that lay below.