wbn issue 4

8/3/2019 WBN Issue 4

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quiver.knox.edu

[email protected]

Cover illustration of the characters Wynken, Blynken, and Nod by Elizabeth Schult

WWyynnkkeenn,,BBllyynnkkeenn,,

aanndd NNooddChildrens and young

adult literature magazine
mailto:[email protected]:[email protected]:[email protected]


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Author Bios and Comments

Shelly Bhanot 2014Poem: Maya Pg. 1I am currently a second-year student at Knox. Despite my many hours spent laboring over the

sciences in SMC, getting a liberal arts education has taught me the strength of words and how

they can be used to express the deepest moments. I had written "Maya" during my niece's

(i.e. Maya's) visit from Florida. Being just a year and a half, she was at a really tender age and had

an affinity for cuddling. The night she fell asleep in my arms after I found her crying in my room

left me moved, to say the least; in the dark, I found a paper and pen and wrote this poem. Maya

has taught me many lessons about the purity of childhood. Whenever I look at her, I always

think, "There is a god in it."

Elizabeth Schult 2013Comic: Brandons Butterflies Pg. 2Elizabeth has been an editor for Wynken, Blynken, and Nod since fall 2011. She is a

sesquipedalian junior majoring in creative writing and psychology, and therefore plans to live in

a box, though how large a box has yet to be decisively determined. She also likes to bake

primarily chocolate flavored confections, draw comics of a metaphysical nature, and invent

Shakespearean style insults.

Julia Shenkar 2012Photo: Unimpressed at Old Faithful Pg. 3Julia is a double major in French and Creative Writing hailing from southeastern Michigan. She

likes apples but not fruit, why do you think that is? She would rather be sailing.

Stephanie Hawes 2015Short Story: Man vs. Wolf Pg. 4Man vs. Wolf is a short story written for my creative writing class during my senior year of

high school. It tells of a nameless man who encounters a wolf in the forest near his house.

Tension builds as injuries are sustained on both sides, but in time the man finds out the wolf's

reason for taking up residence in the woods, only it turns out he might be too late to help it.


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Maya

By Shelly Bhanot

Not even the clanging of pots and pans could wake her.The soft hum of the music next door left her unstirred.

But as soon as I crept into the hallway,The rooms emptiness pulled her from her dreams.And she would cry until I returned,To sing her to sleep.


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Brandons Butterflies

By Elizabeth Schult


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Unimpressed at Old Faithful

By Julia Shenkar


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Man v. Wolf

By Stephanie Hawes

THE MAN

It was not a sunny day. It was definitely not the best time to be out in the woods alone,

with no human contact. Slate gray clouds moved relentlessly overhead, pushed along by invisible

winds and promising rain. A hike through the forest was generally not called for on a day like

this.

But the lonely man climbing the trail preferred this kind of weather. He felt much more

comfortable peering up at the gloomy sky through the multitude of trees, without the sun

beating down on his back. What was he doing here? Even he didnt know for sure. Something

about the forest soothed him, in a way that all the comforts of ordinary human life couldnt. He

had no weapons, no food, no indicator of his species other than the clothes on his back and his

pale, furless appearance.

He had haunted this path so often that the squirrels scampering through the trees no

longer fled at the sight of him, and the birds felt no threat from his presence. It was a pastime of

his, a habit, to walk these woods. Over the course of many years, he could almost fancy that he

had befriended every creature that lived here, every tree and every river, where he sat on the

bank and meditated.But even after years of experience surrounded by nature, he was not under the

assumption that he knew everything about the forest. He didnt pretend that he had explored

every corner, turned over every rock. He supposed that there were still mysteries lurking in

the shadows, things to be learned from the forest and all its bountiful pleasures.

He supposed correctly, for it was that day, as he turned along one of the familiar curves

of the trail, that he heard a very unfamiliar noise. For a moment it sounded like thunder, or a

far off landslide. Then he realised that it was the bass rumble of a very angry animala warning.

Looking ahead, the man found two eyesdark yellow, filled with a territorial purpose

staring directly back at him. It took several seconds for the rest of the creature to come into

focus; a lean, agile-looking wolf, wiry muscles tense under a pelt of black. Another few seconds

passed before the man realised that it was crouched, ready to spring at him. By the time he had

noticed this, the wolf was already in motion.


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It dashed towards him at an incredible speed, still growling and looking for all the world

like a rolling boulder, the kind they often show in action movies as traps for explorers. Luckily,

the man had been born with very quick reflexes, which allowed his brain to move as fast as the

wolf was charging.

With barely a second to decide where he was going, the man leapt sideways off of the

trail, crashing into the undergrowth as the wolf passed. It wheeled around, paws scrabbling on

the ground and then drumming against it as the animal attempted to catch up with him.

The man was already running, tearing through the trees with his heart hammering in his

chest. Never in his life had he encountered such a fierce creature as this; wolves themselves

were rare in these woods, despite the abundance of deer and rabbit. Perhaps that was why this

one had suddenly shown up, the man reflected as he slid down a steep incline, pausing for

breath at the bottom of a rocky ravine, one side of which sloped back up the way he had come,

while the other dropped into another section of forest far below.

Unfortunately the man didnt have time to plan his next move, as a snarl announced the

arrival of the wolf. It toppled out of the trees and landed on him, knocking them both to the

ground. Almost instantly the wolf was clawing at him, snapping its teeth and snarling all the

while. The man defended himself as best he could, but the wolf managed to get his right arm

between its jaws and bit down hard. Blood gushed from the wound, sending waves of white hot

pain through the mans arm. The pounding in his ears made it impossible to tell if he screamedor not, but he somehow managed to throw the wolf off himself. It went skittering away, blood

dripping from its mouth.

The man brought his left elbow beneath him to support himself, watching as the wolf

rolled to the edge of the cliff. It scrabbled back onto its paws, but it was limping now. It had

fallen hard on its hind leg, and its perfect gait was hindered by the wound. Still it lunged at the

man, who brought his uninjured arm up to defend himself. He grabbed the snarling wolfs

muzzle, snapped it shut, and tossed it away again. Now when the wolf stood, it considered him

more carefully. Then with a discontented grunt, it staggered into the trees, knowing that this

was a battle it couldnt win.

After several minutes, the man found the energy to stand, pushing himself off of the

ground while keeping a grip on his bleeding arm. He turned to follow the wolfs path through

the trees, deviating from it once he saw the hiking path. He was too far from his house, and had


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too little energy to run for medical supplies. He would have to make do with whatever he

could find in the forest.

THE WOLF

It limped slowly back up the hill, ears laid back as pain lanced up its leg with each step.

Finally, instinct forced it to sit down and lick the wound. It wasnt bleeding as badly as the mans

arm, but it hurt a lot. Allowing a small whimper to pass through its vocal chords, the wolf

heaved itself upright again and pressed on.

The sun was low in the sky by the time the wolf stopped to rest again. By now it had

lost so much energy that it could barely standbut it couldnt hunt in this condition. It limped,

very slowly, to a low-sitting bush covered with berries. Only in the direst of situations would

the wolf stoop so low as to pluck some berries off the bush. The taste didnt compare at all to

a juicy rabbit, but it was better than nothing.

The sun sank below the trees, shrouding the forest in a seemingly eternal twilight,

bringing the shadows to life in anticipation for the stars that were soon to appear. In this

semidarkness, the wolf dragged itself to a small space between the roots of a towering oak,

producing a makeshift shelter for it to curl up in. Sleep folded its soothing wings over the wolf,

and the night fell still and silent, as it always did in the woods.

THE MAN

The sky was overrun with clouds. The air smelled of rain. Woodland creatures scurried

for cover, gathering what food they could in case the oncoming storm trapped them in their

dens. Even the trees seemed to be holding their breath, waiting for the sky to open up and

dump rain on them.

It was two days after the attack. The man had still not returned home, for reasons far

beyond even him. He had patched up his arm using whatever was availablethe softest leaves

from the trees, the toughest twine from the undergrowth, any resources necessary. Pain still

shot through him whenever he moved his arm, but it had stopped bleeding.

For some reason, the man couldnt stop thinking about the wolf he had encountered.

Perhaps it was the fact that meeting a wolf for the first time in the forest that had become his

second home, was such a novel experience that it left a deep impression on his mind. He had to


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be wary in case the wolf struck again, whether out of spite or territorial pride. Something about

the wolf intrigued him; the wary yet defiant look in its eyes, the blatant solitude in which it

traveled, the reason why it had come here in the first place.

The man, intelligent as he was, couldnt help but think that some ulterior motive had

brought the wolf to this particular forest. Why else would it be wandering around on its own,

not unlike himself? Once again he found himself sitting on a flat expanse of stone by the river,

watching the clear water swirl past with an occasional stick or leaf caught in its current.

The sun was blotted out completely by clouds. The only evidence of nightfall, therefore,

was a gradual darkening of the clouds as the fun faded, unseen, below the horizon. Around dusk,

when there was barely enough light to see by, the man deviated from the trail he had been

following since his last thinking session by the river. He was wending his way carefully through

the trees, seeking shelter, when he heard shuffling footsteps that were not his own.

Peering through the shadow-strewn trees, the man could almost discern a small, skinny

figure limping along a path almost parallel to his. It stopped, sensing eyes upon it, and as soon as

it turned its head, the man recognized it. It was the very same wolf that had attacked him two

days ago. For a moment they stared at each other, and just like at the cliff, the man wondered

whether it was about to chew his head off. But then, also like last time, it growled quietly and

shuffled off in a different direction, soon swallowed up by the darkness.

Something gnawed at the back of the mans mind. Something about the wolf and itsquiet solitude, something that made him want todare he think it?reach out a hand towards

the poor creature. It was only defending its territory, or even its own life. A dark thought

formed in the mans head, but he pushed it away. He had never seen a hunter in this area, no

more than he had seen a wolf or any other such animal.

But was it possible? Could a hunter be prowling these woods, looking for the very same

wolf the man had encountered twice now? The thought, for some reason, made him shiver.

Whatever danger was lurking in these woods couldnt be good for either him or the wolf.

THE WOLF

Four sunrises had passed, as far as the wolf could tell with clouds covering the sun all

day. Its leg was healing at a pace slow enough for it to become impatient. The process made it


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very difficult to hunt, but even so the wolf had managed to catch a few rabbits to keep itself

alive.

Still, the creature was very weak. It had encountered the stranger again yesterday, the

same one that it had fought near the cliff. They scuffled, each trying to land a mortal blow on

the other, but neither was strong enough to hold his ground for very long.

The wolf didnt want to fight. As solitary, as fierce as it might be, it was only trying to

protect itself. It had traveled a long way over the mountain and into this strange land, searching

for a safe place to live. A dark presence still lingered in its fur, making it feel itchy with

anticipation.

That day passed with little event. Not content to sit still, the wolf followed an unknown

path through the forest. Its dark yellow eyes, tinted almost gold in the shaded light of the trees,

glittered with determination. Its ears rotated back and forth, all senses alert. It padded quietly

through the undergrowth, paws barely making a sound save for the brush of a fallen leaf, or the

crack of a twig.

Suddenly the wolf stopped, raising its head and staring around with wide eyes. A

horribly familiar scent flooded its nostrils, a scent that it hadnt smelled in days, but which had

been following it for what seemed like an eternity. It was a harsh, smoky kind of stench that

burned the wolfs nostrils and made its eyes water. Masked by that scent was the same kind of

meaty smell that the wolf had detected on the stranger days ago.Ears laid back in panic, the wolf turned and dashed back the way it had come, leaping

over bushes and logs, wincing every time it landed on its hind leg. Heavy footsteps sounded

behind it, bringing that same harsh smell. The wolf sped up, despite the pain that kept jolting

through its leg.

After what seemed like a lifetime or running, the wolf staggered around a corner and

collapsed under a rocky outcrop, where the vegetation was so thick that it seemed to swallow

the wolf whole, covering it up so that any passersby wouldnt see it. The wolf crouched low,

ears pricked, waiting for the threat to pass. But even when the ominous scent had faded from

the wolfs nostrils, it still felt unsafe to wander from its makeshift hiding place.

Slowly, and with great caution, the wolf pulled itself out of the cover of plants and rock,

head raised high. Clouds rolled sluggishly across the sky, seeming to darken of their own accord

with every passing moment. The promise of rain hung thick in the air, clinging to the wolfs fur


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and dampening every sound it heard. All the woodland creatures had burrowed away in their

holes, waiting for the storm that was sure to come. No birds chirped, no squirrels scuttled

through the trees. The whole forest was holding its breath.

BANG!! The wolf jumped in surprise as something small and fast whizzed past its

shoulder, leaving a sharp burning sensation where it had passed. With a loud yelp the wolf

hurried off the path, dashing clumsily through the bushes.

THE MAN

He needed to go home. He had to return to his own world. Anxiety for the wolf

twisted his gut, but he couldnt live like this. There wasnt enough food here for him to survive,

and his arm needed professional care. He had fallen over a small ledge yesterday, and now the

injured arm was covered with bruises and scratches from the bushes he had landed on. He had

to face it; the forest was no place for a human.

He must have been a quarter mile from the house when he heard a familiar panting

noise behind him. He turned in time to see a black wolf skitter unsteadily out of the woods,

jolting to a halt on the path behind him. His black wolf. Its intelligent yellow eyes were wide

with fear, ears laid back in panic.

It seemed to be waiting for something, as it stood panting in front of him, whimpering

slightly. It looked so pitiful, so different from the bold, impressive animal that he hadencountered days ago, that the man felt another pang in his heart. A burning smell tingled his

nostrils, and comprehension dawned on his face. He thought he heard the steady beat of

footsteps in the distanceor was that just the drumming of his heart? He made a split second

decision, acting so recklessly that later he might look back on it and wonder what he had been

thinking.

The man took one slow steps towards the wolf, then another. It stared intently at him,

dark yellow eyes wary yet pleading. Slowly, carefully, the man knelt until he was level with it. He

held out his hand, as he would to any dog. Let me help you, he murmured, recognizing from

this closed distance the faint traces of a bullet in the wolfs left shoulder. It was impossible for

the wolf to understand human language, but the way it looked at him seemed to indicate that it

knew of his intentions.


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As if in a slow-motion movie, the wolf took a hesitant, uneven step forwards, bringing

itself closer to the man, closing the gap between them. His nose rested inches from the mans

open hand. He was stretching his neck forward, yellow eyes fixed on the man s face.

The moment was too perfect. A loud BANG interrupted them, shocking them both into

a deadly silence. The man and the wolf stared at each other, for the last time, as an incredible

pain blossomed in his chest where the bullet had landed. The sky opened up at last and rain

poured down from the heavens, mingling with blood and tears, dousing the whole forest as the

world seeped into darkness.

wbn issue 4

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