Tallo the Werewolf of Crooked River, Size Small (soft firmness)
Tallo the werewolf of Crooked River
A howl rings out through the darkness, cutting through the mist and catching in the branches of the massive cypress trees. It’s echo carries wide and far, landing on the Kudu’s ears like a long lost friend. She smiles at the song, breathing in deep. The underbrush near the river quivers and shifts, it is hiding something there. A secret, a gift, a nightmare for some. He bears many names and has accumulated many legends that follow him like dogs. The clouds above move apart, giving birth to the pale moonlight that falls across the earth in silver shrouds. Only then does the creature rise from the tall grass and give himself away. He steps forward into the river, approaching with caution. The slow moving water shifts around his massive legs, caressing him, knowing him as a friend.
The Kudu shifts the weight of her pack, opening the worn leather flap.
She’s come bringing gifts, knowing this creature of the low river lands would need them. She offers out her hand, full of dried meat to serve as a peace offering.
The great beast’s ears perk forward and his glowering eyes catch the moonlight. There is a flash of recognition there as he nears the bank of the water. It has been some time, but he remembers her, this wild queen of magic.
The Kudu’s eyes sweep his bulky form. She’d heard the villagers talking of the monster they’d nearly killed. They had trapped him after decades of hunting him and though he’d slipped out of their clutches before the final blow could be dealt, they’d taken his arm for a prize. This tale proved true as she observed the gnarled stump that had once been his right arm.
“Tallo my dear friend, time has not been kind to you,” She whispered.
He took her offering of food and allowed her hoof to brush his cheek gently.
“Time is not kind to any of us really,” He responded.
She nodded knowingly.
But the cruelty of the world fell away, if only for a night. The two old friends taking to the river’s gentle flow, swimming beneath the fat moon above. For now, all was forgotten, covered by the smooth river rocks and buried beneath the cool earth.
Due to the handmade nature of silicone, please be aware there are minor inconsistencies and imperfections in this art form. Models may vary from one to another and small things like print texture, texture from smoothing, and marks from mold making are common and do not hinder the usage of the toys.