Shownotes
A first look at the new fantasy series by artist Joaquín Baldwin, an epic and queer tale of transformation.
Today’s story is the second and final part of “Wolf of Withervale” by Joaquín Baldwin, known for his work at Disney in films like Zootopia and currently writing his own fantasy series, the Noss Saga, touching on themes of sexuality, gender, and transformation, via anthropomorphic themes.
Last time, young Lago had gotten into a fight at school, and fearful of his father finding out, he’d decided to go to his secret hideout—an ancient cellar carved on a boulder behind a derelict cabin—where he could pass the day and also use the nearby creek to wash his clothes and wounds. In the prelude, we had also learned about a wounded fox who was fleeing soldiers and a pack of hounds. The two stories are about to collide.
Read by Solomon Harries, Cuddly Badger Dad
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https://thevoice.dog/episode/excerpt-from-wolf-of-withervale-by-joaquin-baldwin-part-2-of-2
Transcripts
You’re listening to The Voice of Dog.
Speaker:This is Rob MacWolf, your fellow traveler,
Speaker:and Today’s story is the second and final part of “Wolf of Withervale”
Speaker:by Joaquín Baldwin,
Speaker:known for his work at Disney
Speaker:in films like Zootopia
Speaker:and currently writing his own fantasy series, the Noss Saga,
Speaker:touching on themes of sexuality,
Speaker:gender, and transformation, via anthropomorphic themes.
Speaker:Last time, young Lago had gotten into a fight at school,
Speaker:and fearful of his father finding out, he’d decided to go to his secret hideout
Speaker:—an ancient cellar carved on a boulder behind a derelict cabin—where
Speaker:he could pass the day and
Speaker:also use the nearby creek to
Speaker:wash his clothes and wounds.
Speaker:In the prelude, we had also learned
Speaker:about a wounded fox
Speaker:who was fleeing soldiers and a pack of hounds.
Speaker:The two stories are about to collide.
Speaker:Read by Solomon Harries, the Cuddly Badger Dad
Speaker:Please enjoy “Wolf of Withervale”
Speaker:by Joaquín Baldwin,
Speaker:Part 2 of 2 Those were the best of times,
Speaker:Lago reminisced. Two years seemed like ages ago,
Speaker:and who could blame him?
Speaker:Two years amounted to a substantial portion of his life.
Speaker:He was panting like a dog when he arrived at the shack.
Speaker:He had come alone this time, but that was alright;
Speaker:he sometimes came on his own when Alaia was busy,
Speaker:and he had some work to do anyway.
Speaker:He walked around the freestanding door next to no walls
Speaker:and hopped across a toppled beam toward the back of the cabin.
Speaker:After peeking around distrustfully in case spies lurked nearby,
Speaker:he swung open the secret panel,
Speaker:then crawled in, pushing his leather bag in front of him.
Speaker:The bag dropped with a muffled thud.
Speaker:Lago didn’t go inside.
Speaker:Instead, he crawled out again and ambled toward the creek,
Speaker:where he took his muddied clothes off.
Speaker:During Summer, Lago and Alaia would bathe in this creek.
Speaker:Despite being very self-conscious of his naked body,
Speaker:Lago did not feel uncomfortable being naked around Alaia;
Speaker:they had long ago satisfied their curiosities about anatomical differences,
Speaker:as children do, and would often spend time together unclothed inside their Diamond Cave, pretending to be barbaric cave dwellers.
Speaker:Lago washed his clothes as well as he could,
Speaker:plopped them wet and flat over a sunlit boulder radiating warmth,
Speaker:then approached the crystal-clear pool.
Speaker:He loved this time of year,
Speaker:when the fallen leaves drew fiery spirals in the round pond.
Speaker:Their hypnotic circling made him so relaxed
Speaker:—he could watch them for hours.
Speaker:After sinking his brown feet into the pool, he decided this would be the quickest possible bath:
Speaker:the glacial meltwater was way too cold,
Speaker:and even the biting light of Sunnokh would not be enough to fight the mid-Autumn breeze.
Speaker:He washed in haste, taking special care of his muddy curls,
Speaker:then shook himself dry as he imagined Bear would have.
Speaker:He sprawled on a hot rock,
Speaker:butt cheeks up and spread to let the breeze dry all his crevices.
Speaker:Once dry, he pissed downstream,
Speaker:shook it off, then headed naked into the Diamond Cave.
Speaker:He sat his fully warmed ass on a hole-riddled bucket,
Speaker:then pulled his school lunch from his leather bag:
Speaker:a pear and a rice patty wrapped in morseleaf.
Speaker:The boy devoured it all eagerly
Speaker:—the fight at school, the hike,
Speaker:the cold water had all left him ravenous.
Speaker:After tucking the trash away, he pulled out a leather pouch.
Speaker:He loosened the drawstrings and removed a delicate wooden box
Speaker:that when opened revealed a series of square compartments with colorful, dried pastes in them.
Speaker:He scraped off a bit of paste
Speaker:—the blue one, his favorite
Speaker:—and in an empty compartment mixed it with a few drops of a sharp-smelling solvent he dripped from a tiny bottle.
Speaker:With a minute brush he stirred the solution and soon had just the right amount of fingernail lacquer ready to be applied.
Speaker:This was what had gotten him beaten up earlier at school:
Speaker:his classmates had peeked in his bag,
Speaker:found his box of fingernail lacquers, and smelled easy prey.
Speaker:“You are all just jealous,” he half-thought,
Speaker:half-muttered. “You are the sissy, Borris. I bet your boyfriend Wailen likes to kiss your fat titties.
Speaker:titties.” Lago didn’t know why he liked to paint his nails;
Speaker:he just did. He looked prettier that way,
Speaker:and it was nobody’s business anyhow.
Speaker:He had gotten in big trouble the first time he did it:
Speaker:when his father saw his hands, he gave Lago quite a beating.
Speaker:Nowadays, he only painted his nails when in total privacy.
Speaker:Before the blue lacquer dried up, Lago crushed and sprinkled tiny flecks of mica over his nails, which stuck like constellations of gold.
Speaker:Alaia had taught him how to do that.
Speaker:He blew on his nails, waiting for the sparkling lacquer to dry.
Speaker:He was getting cold, sitting naked in the gloomy cellar.
Speaker:The Diamond Cave always sucked the heat straight out of his marrow.
Speaker:He crawled back out, peeled his wonderfully warm clothes off the sunny boulder,
Speaker:and got dressed. As he walked back to the shack, he heard a distant howling.
Speaker:Wolves? he thought,
Speaker:then turned his head to listen more intently.
Speaker:No, those are hounds.
Speaker:He stood by the shack’s freestanding door, looking up the pebble path in the direction of the howls,
Speaker:and there he saw the strangest of things:
Speaker:a gray fox was running directly toward him.
Speaker:Weird kind of fox for these mountains, he thought.
Speaker:Is that blood? The gray fox halted a mere five feet in front of him,
Speaker:dripping red over the pebbles that adorned the shack’s perimeter.
Speaker:The fox checked behind her, shaking in fear and exhaustion,
Speaker:then looked up at Lago, as if she knew he understood her peril.
Speaker:“Do you need help?”
Speaker:Lago said out loud, surprised that he didn’t find it odd to be talking to a wild animal.
Speaker:The fox trembled,
Speaker:whimpered, and bled from her shoulder blades and belly.
Speaker:Lago felt pity for her.
Speaker:The howling of the hounds sounded closer.
Speaker:“Over here, I’ll hide you, quickly!”
Speaker:he cried out and hurried to the secret doorway.
Speaker:As if the fox could understand his words, she followed and jumped in,
Speaker:leaving drips of blood on her way over.
Speaker:Lago hastily closed the hinged panel over the hole,
Speaker:then stumbled back to the front of the shack.
Speaker:Shit, there’s blood on the pebbles, he realized.
Speaker:Without thinking too much about it, he grabbed all the tainted pebbles and hurled them toward the creek.
Speaker:Some fell in, some splashed blood around the shore.
Speaker:Lago’s heart was about to beat out of his chest.
Speaker:He wasn’t sure why this moment was important, but he felt an urge to follow through with his instincts.
Speaker:The pack of foxhounds had just turned around the path,
Speaker:coming directly toward him.
Speaker:Five soldiers held their leashes while also holding crossbows and recurve bows.
Speaker:A tall woman with long, silver-blonde hair led the group;
Speaker:her left temple was shaved and tattooed with a ranking insignia
Speaker:—evidence of previous honors and victories.
Speaker:Those are marking from the Negian Empire, Lago thought.
Speaker:Since he was very young, he had been taught not to trust Negians,
Speaker:who were enemies of the Zovarian Union.
Speaker:“Over there!” he blurted out.
Speaker:“The fox ran toward the creek!”
Speaker:The soldiers turned in the direction Lago pointed to without questioning him nor slowing.
Speaker:At the creek, the hounds easily picked up the scent of the bloodied pebbles.
Speaker:Their blonde leader signaled to spread out:
Speaker:three followed the creek downstream, while the rest crossed it in search of a trail.
Speaker:Once the soldiers were out of sight,
Speaker:Lago took a deep breath and bolted toward the Diamond Cave.
Speaker:He crawled in, and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness,
Speaker:what he saw was not a gray fox,
Speaker:but a much larger form slowly becoming solid to his eyes.
Speaker:On the cold ground was a pool of blood,
Speaker:and on it lay a wrinkled old woman.
Speaker:The back of her neck was dripping;
Speaker:her hand clutched her red belly.
Speaker:She seemed to be wearing a skin-tight laced dress that covered her body with black, geometric patterns.
Speaker:“How did you get—” Lago started,
Speaker:then stopped, confused.
Speaker:“Where is th-the fox?
Speaker:Where did—” The old woman pushed herself up to her knees while protectively holding something to her chest.
Speaker:With crazed, desperate eyes, she wailed,
Speaker:“Jienn ëath elmath khe
Speaker:Silv, baalith khelefat ampalv! Baakiag! Baak… ia… g…” “I
Speaker:-I don’t understand…
Speaker:I’ll go get help, I’ll—”
Speaker:“Grest! No! Stay!” she gasped.
Speaker:“Miscamish, speak
Speaker:little Common…” She struggled to find the words, speaking them in a raspy, gurgling-wet voice.
Speaker:“Please, not let find.
Speaker:Agnargsilv… Please, keep safe.” “I w
Speaker:-won’t let them find you.
Speaker:But you need help, you are bleeding. I… I need to—”
Speaker:“Safe!” she snapped,
Speaker:red spittle dangling from her mouth.
Speaker:She inched closer,
Speaker:dragging her knees over her coagulating blood.
Speaker:Lago saw now that she wasn’t wearing a lace dress but was completely naked:
Speaker:her terracotta-colored skin was covered in tattoos.
Speaker:She reached toward Lago and pressed a large, black object to his chest.
Speaker:“Agnargsilv, ampalv,
Speaker:keep safe.” “What is it?”
Speaker:he inquired. Whatever she was handing to him was too dark to see in the void of the cave. “Agnargsilv…” was her simple reply.
Speaker:“I… I’m Lago. Where did the fox… Was it…
Speaker:What’s your name?”
Speaker:“Sontai,” she replied,
Speaker:with a hand over her sagging, inked breasts. “Agnargsilv, you take.
Speaker:Dangerous, you hide,
Speaker:keep safe. Walmalmem.
Speaker:Only give for my grandson, please.
Speaker:Secret.” “Where is your grandson? I can take you to—”
Speaker:“Bonmei, son of daughter.
Speaker:Bonmei. Please, promise.
Speaker:Agnargsilv safe,
Speaker:give only for Bonmei.
Speaker:Secret to others.”
Speaker:She smiled at him with bloodied teeth and gums.
Speaker:Lago could tell she was using all her strength to hide the pain,
Speaker:to hold that lamentable, pleading grin.
Speaker:“I promise, I’ll keep it safe.
Speaker:I’ll give it to your grandson, Bonmei.”
Speaker:“Voss unnith jienn,
Speaker:Lago, unnith. Grateful.
Speaker:Grateful…” And then her eyes went white with fear.
Speaker:“Safe, hide!” she whimpered, as the howling of the hounds echoed nearby. “Sontai, stay here.
Speaker:Stay, I’ll be back.”
Speaker:He handed the dark object back to her.
Speaker:“Promise!” she lamented.
Speaker:“Yes, I promise! Stay quiet, please!” He hurried out,
Speaker:closing the round door first and the wooden panel after.
Speaker:He peeked around the edge of the cabin and saw all the hounds and soldiers gathered by the creek again.
Speaker:Their blonde leader calmly approached, scanning the road and even up the trees.
Speaker:Lago was composing himself when he noticed one grave mistake:
Speaker:there was a trail of blood over the splintered boards of the cabin.
Speaker:He tried to wipe the blood off but only managed to smear his right hand in it.
Speaker:He hastily flipped some loose planks over the smears, then stood firmly by the front of the shack.
Speaker:The soldier approached confidently,
Speaker:with a powerful, dominant stride.
Speaker:She wore a thin suit of the finest leather,
Speaker:which made not the slightest noise.
Speaker:Hanging at her back was a quiver along with a beautiful crossbow of red sandalwood,
Speaker:finely inlaid with bone and copper. She stopped uncomfortably close to Lago, measuring him.
Speaker:Her eyes were the color of brushed steel.
Speaker:“Boy, what is your name?” “Lago. I am-I’m Lago,”
Speaker:Lago stammered, concealing his blood-covered fingertips behind his back.
Speaker:“Lago, our trail is running cold.
Speaker:I need you to tell me exactly what you saw.
Speaker:Do not skip any details. Think hard and remember clearly.”
Speaker:“Yes, Lurr.” Lago swallowed the lump in his throat and nervously spouted,
Speaker:“She was a gray fox, we don’t have gray foxes on this side of the Pilgrim Sierras,
Speaker:so my guess is that she was from the south?
Speaker:Cream paws, gray back, black stripe on the tail.
Speaker:She had a cut on the back, like,
Speaker:like around her neck or shoulders, and a
Speaker:—and another on the belly.
Speaker:Seemed badly hurt. Went over that way”—he pointed with his chin
Speaker:—“where your dogs are sniffing about. She tried to jump the creek but fell in.”
Speaker:“She?” the woman inquired.
Speaker:“You can tell the girls from the boys by their size,” Lago quickly replied, digging himself out of the hole.
Speaker:“Thank you, Lago. That is unfortunate, but it is as I suspected.”
Speaker:She squatted down so her cold, gray eyes met Lago’s.
Speaker:“Now let me see your hands.” Lago’s terror was double: for the blood on his hands, for his lacquered fingernails.
Speaker:“I don’t know anything else, Lurr,
Speaker:I—” “Just show me your hands, please.”
Speaker:Lago kept his bloodied hand behind his back and raised the other one forward,
Speaker:palm up to hide his nails.
Speaker:He felt the woman covering his palm with a strong hand,
Speaker:placing something cold in it,
Speaker:and closing it tight,
Speaker:all without losing eye contact.
Speaker:“You are very observant, Lago. Thank you for your help,”
Speaker:she said, then pulled forward her beautiful crossbow.
Speaker:“When you are older”
Speaker:—she caressed the sinew drawstring
Speaker:—“if you ever find yourself near Hestfell,
Speaker:look for the Arbalisters’ Commons.
Speaker:Tell them Fjorna Daro sent you,
Speaker:and mention your own name.
Speaker:I never forget a name.
Speaker:You’d make a great recruit, boy.
Speaker:I’ll make sure you get proper training.
Speaker:You’d be better off fighting for the Empire.”
Speaker:“Thank you, Lurr Daro,
Speaker:I will.” Fjorna smiled, for the first time;
Speaker:a formidable and tempestuous smile.
Speaker:As she stood, she ruffled Lago’s curls
Speaker:—he hated it when people did that,
Speaker:and hoped he managed to hide his displeasure.
Speaker:The woman checked her surroundings, letting Lago clearly see the ranking tattoos on her shaved, left temple:
Speaker:they were so numerous that they ran all the way behind her ear.
Speaker:They looked important.
Speaker:She looked important.
Speaker:Fjorna turned away and walked toward the creek,
Speaker:waving hand signals.
Speaker:Her squad swiftly reacted and continued their chase downstream.
Speaker:Once Fjorna was out of sight,
Speaker:Lago finally dared to open his hand;
Speaker:in it was a sixteen-sided silver coin.
Speaker:The face of Emperor Uvon dus Grei was stamped on one side
Speaker:and the laurels of the Negian sigil on the other.
Speaker:A silver Krujel,
Speaker:from the Negian Empire,
Speaker:Lago thought. That’s so
Speaker:far. Fjorna must’ve traveled a long way in pursuit of… Sontai! he remembered, then rushed back to the cave.
Speaker:Sontai was dead.
Speaker:Lago had never seen a dead person before.
Speaker:It was not scary; it was simply gruesome and sad and miserable.
Speaker:The nutty, iron-heavy smell of blood made him nauseated.
Speaker:He swallowed painfully,
Speaker:feeling lightheaded.
Speaker:He suddenly realized he had closed the door behind him earlier,
Speaker:leaving Sontai in complete darkness.
Speaker:Alone. To die. He knew there was no helping it,
Speaker:but still tried pushing on the old woman’s shoulder,
Speaker:whispering her name.
Speaker:“Sontai… I’m so sorry…”
Speaker:he mumbled, lips quivering.
Speaker:Tears welled up in his eyes.
Speaker:“I wish I could’ve done more.”
Speaker:He saw the dark object Sontai had wanted him to take tucked beneath her.
Speaker:He respectfully moved her arm away and took the object
Speaker:—it was impossibly light,
Speaker:as if made of solid air.
Speaker:He carried it toward the opening to shine light on it.
Speaker:What he saw was a fox mask,
Speaker:or maybe a wolf mask, or some sort of dog; he wasn’t sure.
Speaker:It was heavily stylized, uncannily black,
Speaker:with the most intricate details carved onto it.
Speaker:The mask was beautiful,
Speaker:severe; it exuded power and invoked reverence.
Speaker:It had an ominous streak of blood running over the flattened brow.
Speaker:Lago looked at Sontai once more,
Speaker:still unable to comprehend how there had been a fox there before,
Speaker:and now all that remained was the corpse of an old woman.
Speaker:“I promised you I’d keep it safe.
Speaker:I will. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more for you… I—”
Speaker:he began to weep.
Speaker:“I will give it to your grandson. I don’t know h-how I’ll find him, but I w-won’t let anyone else know about it.”
Speaker:He slumped against the cold wall
Speaker:and openly wept.
Speaker:It must have been an hour later when Lago pulled himself up.
Speaker:He avoided looking at the dead body,
Speaker:but still caught a glimpse of the black-dried blood on the ground.
Speaker:He carried the mask to the creek,
Speaker:where he washed off the blood and examined the details up close.
Speaker:It was wet and glistening,
Speaker:pure black with sparkles of sunlight dripping all over it,
Speaker:like the deepest starry sky.
Speaker:He ran his fingers over it,
Speaker:feeling the pointed ears, the piercing eyeholes, the hollow muzzle.
Speaker:The patterns on the mask flowed in the direction the fur would on a real animal
Speaker:but split in knotted motifs to merge back in elaborate, calligraphic filigrees.
Speaker:Even the tiniest surfaces described compounded forms,
Speaker:weaving multiple images into one,
Speaker:changing depending on the angle of the light.
Speaker:The mask didn’t have a headband,
Speaker:so it was not clear how it should attach to someone’s face—Lago’s head was too small for it either way,
Speaker:but the concavity felt inviting,
Speaker:alluring. He looked through the eyeholes and briefly hesitated;
Speaker:but then, with an inexplicable conviction,
Speaker:he pressed the mask to his face.
Speaker:What he experienced then was indescribable agony.
Speaker:He felt as if the mask fused onto his face,
Speaker:becoming one with it,
Speaker:and crunched down into his skull and spine,
Speaker:making his brain explode in aching torment.
Speaker:It was as if he could feel the anguish of everything around him:
Speaker:the pain in his heart,
Speaker:the pain of Sontai dying,
Speaker:the pain of the forest,
Speaker:of the earthworms in the soil,
Speaker:of the tiny crayfish hiding under rocks in the creek,
Speaker:of every cell in every orange leaf that fell to be washed into the stream.
Speaker:He felt it all, unable to stop it.
Speaker:Lago was not aware that he was screaming.
Speaker:He wailed on the ground,
Speaker:scratching his head until the mask detached,
Speaker:and he found himself collapsing out of breath.
Speaker:The experience had been so intense that he wasn’t sure if it had lasted a heartbeat,
Speaker:or an entire day.
Speaker:Cheek flat on the dirt,
Speaker:he stared at the mask,
Speaker:and the voids of its eyeholes stared back,
Speaker:unblinking. Once his body recovered from the shock,
Speaker:Lago stumbled to his feet,
Speaker:carefully picked up the cursed artifact,
Speaker:went back to the cave, and hid the mask inside his bag.
Speaker:“I don’t know what to do,”
Speaker:he told himself, or Sontai,
Speaker:or the world. I don’t understand what just happened, he thought,
Speaker:finding tears in his eyes once more.
Speaker:He looked down at the corpse,
Speaker:truly looked at it,
Speaker:as if trying to convince himself that this was all real.
Speaker:It was still there,
Speaker:undeniably still there.
Speaker:“I can’t leave you like this,” he told the dead woman.
Speaker:“I’m sorry. I’ll come back tomorrow, but I will keep
Speaker:—I’ll keep this thing safe.”
Speaker:He wiped the snot off his nose and slung the bag over his shoulder.
Speaker:“I’m so sorry,” he said once more,
Speaker:then left. This was the second and final part of an excerpt from
Speaker:“Wolf of Withervale”
Speaker:by Joaquín Baldwin,
Speaker:read for you by Solomon Harries,
Speaker:the Cuddly Badger Dad.
Speaker:As always, you can find more stories on the web at thevoice.dog,
Speaker:or find the show wherever you get
Speaker:your podcasts. Thank you for listening to The Voice of Dog.