My name is Erik Erikson, and I am but 10, not yet 11, years old as my tale begins. I was born into a storytale village, into a storytale world. A storytale world… Ah, how I miss it. Everything normal, everything good. A girl was born next into my family, when I was 4, and her name was Frieda Eriksdoter. My own sister! I protected her like I would a small dog, and she adored me. Adored me… Forgive an old man, I am getting off track. Now, getting back, Frieda had a slight, um, tendency to wander off and get into numerous predicaments. By the time I was ten and she was six, she had already upset all of the water-barrels available to upset, as that was her favorite game, and she had wandered off in search of more. Mother told her, Be back by dinner! But it was well past dinner, almost one o’clock in the morning, when she came home. Her clothes, ragged and torn, and her hands… Oh, the hands. Dirty and bleeding, they were. She was dragging her little wooden horse behind her, with a smile on her face. Oh, the little girl, and she wandered off again the next day. She was not seen again ‘till I was 24, and by then the only thing existing were rumors of a wolf-girl seen around my old homeland. I knew I had to follow these rumors, as they had reported a smallish girl around 14 with blazing red hair, and that would be her to the tip. So, being of good will and spirit, I set out to look for this… this… “Wolf girl” rumored to be so good, and kind, almost sure that she be my blood sister. Later into the day, I ventured out into the woods accompanying my homeland with only some spare salted meat to lead her to me. Suddenly, from out of the brush, sprang a vaguely woman-like figure, clad only in tattered and torn remnants of a small child’s clothes! I judged her to be around 14, with long red hair still shocking although matted and dirty, just like the descriptions! Ah, how I longed for her, Ah, how I missed her… I offered her a hunk of my meat and she grasped it in her jaws. We stood together for one brief moment, our eyes locked, somehow understanding each other. Then she ran off into the brush from whence she came, and only at that moment I grasped the true life my sister now led.
Throughout my stay at my hometown, I managed to get her close enough to me so that she would take the meat right out of my hand. Within a year, she was civilized enough to come home with me. Now we live together, as sister and brother, together here. Leave now, I am getting tired, and you can expect another story tomorrow.