Flee the Wolves
Pick Your Peril: The Hero of Mudtown
(This is part of a series of choose-your-own-adventure articles. If you want to start from the beginning, click here.)
There are too many wolves for you to face. The clear choice is to run.
You turn and sprint towards the edge of the clearing, hoping to find safety in the trees. You leap over roots and brambles as the hungry pack of animals nips at your heels. A small hut suddenly appears in the midst of the forest, and you start running towards it, hoping that whoever lives inside can come to your aid.
As you near the structure, the door opens and a shadowy form beckons you inside with a wave of their scrawny hand. A wolf latches onto the back of your shirt and rips a chunk of fabric from it. You are within shouting distance of the doorway when your foot catches on a stone and sends you face first into the dirt. You brace yourself and prepare for the pack to overtake you.
The attack does not come. You take a peek, and see the wolves snarling and gnashing their jaws only a few feet away, refusing to take another step forward. It’s as if a barrier surrounds the hut, placed there by some kind of curse or spell. You get up and quickly approach the shack, glancing over your shoulder. The wolves keep their distance, almost as if they were afraid to come any closer.
“That’s it,” an old woman’s voice croaks, “come inside where it’s safe.”
You stumble through the doorway and find yourself in the middle of a dank little hovel. Scraps of parchment, vials of dark liquid and the skulls of several small animals clutter every usable surface. An ancient wooden chair cushioned with furs sits in front of a fireplace. In the dancing light of the flames, you are able to see your savior a little more clearly.
The old woman is the very personification of a hag. She is hunched and wrinkled, with gray hair, thin and wiry. She gives you a smile absent of teeth, and pats the chair with a bony hand.
“Take a seat, dear.” She shuffles off into a back room and emerges with a small pot and some ingredients. “Make yourself comfortable while I prepare some tea.”
You settle into the chair while she puts the pot on the fire and tosses the ingredients in. The old woman stares at you with a strange gleam in her eye, not saying a single word. You begin to fidget anxiously as the tea boils and the hag gazes at you. You decide to speak up, and mention your missing family. You try to tell her that it’s urgent that you leave now, but it doesn’t seem like she’s listening.
“Just relax sweetie.” She removes the pot from the fire and pours two cups of tea. “It’s not safe outside with the wolves about, some tea will help you feel better. Once you recover your strength, we’ll go looking for your family.”
She brings over the drink and frowns at you forlornly, “I don’t get much company out here, won’t you indulge a lonely old woman for a minute or two?”
What a strange woman. You’re inclined not to trust her, but it seems like she hasn’t meant any harm so far. She did save you from the wolves. A moment to drink some tea and relax does sound nice after your plunge through the forest.
What will you do?