The Selkie and The Poacher

A short tale of a selkie losing and regaining her pelt.

Once upon a time, there was a selkie that discovered that her pelt was missing. It had been stolen by a poacher.

"An ethical poacher," he called himself when she went to confront him. He wasn't very far from the beach. In fact, he had his cart set up on the road still in view of the ocean waves.

"Ethical? How is what you do ethical?" She asked.

"Well I don't kill any animals," he said. He gestured to his cart, to all of the furs and skins and pelts that were hanging up to be purchased. "I haven't killed any of these. Other people do, and when they discard the skins and pelts and furs, I come along and collect them. More ethical than selkies, anyway. I know about you, you know? I know that you find and kill a seal to get your pelts in the first place. Much worse than what I do, I think."

The selkie was infuriated by this. Yes, it was true that much of a selkie's childhood was spent preparing to earn her pelt. They would practice and train for hours to be fast enough and strong enough to kill the seal with the pelt of their choosing. It was an incredibly important choice, one that the selkie had herself spent nearly a year deciding, as a selkie could only have one pelt in her lifetime. When they did manage to catch and kill the seal of their choice, it was then a long and labour intensive process to skin he animal, and preserve the pelt, weaving in the special spells and magics that allowed the selkie to change shape when wearing the skin. It made the fur beautiful, more beautiful than they could be if tanned and preserved the normal ways, especially because the selkie would spend the rest of her life maintaining and caring for her seal skin.

It wasn't just a simple case of killing the seal or not killing the seal, but the selkie did not know how to articulate this fact to the poacher.

So instead, the selkie grabbed the poacher by the collar and said "give me my pelt back, or I will drag you to my siren sisters and I will watch as they drown you."

The poacher agreed.

Unfortunately, by that point the poacher had already sold the pelt to a wealthy merchant. "But," the poacher said, "as an act of good faith, I will take you to the wealthy merchant myself. Then you can ask him for your pelt back yourself."

The selkie agreed, and together the two tentative companions set off to find the wealthy merchant. As they travelled, the poacher regaled the selkie with tales of the wealthy merchant. The man had gone around the world, searching for the most interesting, the most exotic, the most beautiful things to add to his collection. He ate the most lavish foods, watched the most grand stage shows, was a master swordsman and a shrewd businessman.

"It's an honour actually," the poacher told her, " that the merchant chose your pelt of all others that I had. In fact, it's the only seal pelt he has in his entire collection. He only keeps one of any given item, and it must be the best, most wonderful he's ever seen. If on his journeys he finds something better, he will buy it and throw the previous version away."

The selkie did not think it was an honour that the merchant bought her stolen pelt, and she told as much to the poacher.

"My pelt is a beautiful as any other selkies pelt," she said, "but this one is mine, and it should be returned to me."

The poacher shook his head, muttering something about selkies not understanding the true value of things, and they lapsed into silence.

They found him eventually. The wealthy merchant was tucked away in his rich manor house, behind walls and guards that the selkie watched curiously. Surely a man powerful as this would not need protectors, or barriers separating him from the outside world, she thought. But she paid it no mind as they approached the gates. When the guards called them to halt and to state their business, the poacher stepped forward.

"We're here to talk to the wealthy merchant," he said.

"Why?" the guard asked.

The poacher hesitated. Clearly he didn't think this far ahead. The selkie spoke up instead. "Because it's not the most beautiful pelt in the world. We have one that's more beautiful, and are willing to trade him for it."

The guard considered this for a moment, then went in to speak to the merchant.

While the guard was gone, the poacher turned to her and said "we don't have another pelt."

"You have plenty of pelts," she replied.

The guard came back then and nodded to them, opening the gates to let them pass into the manor house. The merchant had agreed to meet with them. As they walked through the halls of the manor, the selkie took in the opulent and mismatched decorations. Many were from different animals: skulls and mounted heads, hides and rugs, pinned bugs and wet-preserve jars. There were large paintings and tapestries, couches, chaise lounges, sculptures, busts, and more candles than she could count. There were so many that she imagined that the first one would have burned down to the base by the time the very last was lit.

The wealthy merchant was in a drawing room of sorts, lounging on an overstuffed, plush, red velvet couch. He was simultaneously small, and seemed overstuffed as well. His cheeks were ruddy with drink, and his hands were soft and pale a way that the selkie had not seen hands be before. He was eating from a platter of flaky, buttery rolls, the golden brown pastries crackling as he pulled them apart. For all his affluence, he was a deeply unimpressive man.

"You say you have a seal skin more beautiful than this one?" The merchant said. He gestured to a chair across the room, where the selkie's pelt was draped over the back of it. The fur was still sleek and uniform, the mottled pattern crisp around the spots, but the selkie could see the ways the pelt had lost its luster already.

The poacher nudged her. "Yes," she said, tearing her eyes away from her seal skin. "more beautiful than anything else you've ever seen."

The wealthy merchant gave her a disbelieving look. "I doubt that. But come, bring it forward so that I may make a decision. If it is more beautiful like you say it is, I am willing to buy it off of you."

"Oh we don't have it here," the selkie said. "You'll have to come with us to see it. We couldn't risk bandits or robbers on our journey."

The merchant watched her for a moment, then looked between her and the poacher. "I bought this pelt from you, poacher. is what she's saying true? Did you truly find a fur more worthy of my collection?"

"Yes, I believe so," the poacher said.

The merchant nodded, pushing up to his feet and walking towards them. He grabbed the selkie's pelt, and the selkie fought back a grimace as he wiped the butter and grease from his hands into her furs. "lead the way then, friends. I shall follow behind."

So they travelled back to the beach, the wealthy merchant shadowing behind them. The poacher jogged forward to reach his cart, but the selkie continued on passed him. "This way!" She called out to the merchant. "I've hidden it on the beach."

Curiously, both the merchant and the poacher trailed after her. She lead them along the waterline until she reached the end of an old wooden dock. Peering over the edge, the selkie smiled. "It's right there. Isn't it pretty?"

The merchant looked over the edge as well, but couldn't see anything. He shook his head. "I don't—"

But the selkie had stepped behind him and pushed him. He flailed for a moment, letting go of the seal skin, before dropping into the water and sinking like a stone.

As the selkie picked up her pelt and finally tucked it back around her shoulders, the poacher said "I suppose that's one way to do it. I'm glad that everything worked out in the end." He began to walk away, but the selkie put a hand out, stopping him.

"Hang on," she said, "we're not finished yet. You stole my pelt from me."

"I helped you get it back," said the poacher.

"But you still stole from me. You still sold my pelt, I see no reason why you wouldn't do it again, and I can't allow this to happen to any of my sisters if I can prevent it."

The poacher was incredulous. "So am I to give up my job? the career I've spent my whole life creating? How then will I keep myself alive?"

The selkie smiled, and for the first time, the poacher noticed how sharp it was, with large fangs in front and saw-like teeth behind. "You won't need to," she said, and using the hand still on his arm, she gripped him tight and dove backwards into the ocean. The magic flared, shifting her into her seal form, and like this, she did not need to rely on any of her sisters in order to watch the poacher drown.