“Papa?”
“Yes, my little splinter?”
“Why are we so different from other people?”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, we are always alone. Our uncles and us. And we don’t exactly live like others do… in villages and such. We are always on the move. And. Well. All the other people have more children, and mothers, and wives, but it is just me and you guys. And none of you have wives, and I don’t have a mom. And then they talk about us and stare. And, and, and.”
“Hush, little splinter,” the man interrupted the child “Do not worry about it. We were chosen, that is all, you especially are a gift from the goddess. Do not fret about what the rabble are whispering about in the shadows, they simply do not understand.”
“But father, I don’t understand either”
“And it is not yet time for you to. I will tell you when you are ready. That is if you don’t figure it out yourself by then.”
He remembered the day the goddesses had blessed him with this innocent soul. He and his fellow druids were wondering about the wilds, communing with the goddess, when he was scraped on the leg by a thorn. He was in agony for months afterword. His leg had swollen so much that that he was unable to move about without aid. One day the healer among them took a spear head and sliced open the side of his leg to relieve the pressure. And from the wound had spilled the child. A beautiful girl, a gift to the men of the troop who would never marry. She was their darling and treasure, the legacy of an old forgotten religion.
“Father?”
“Yes, my splinter?”
“Why am I so different?”
“What do you mean, child?”
“I mean. I am half wild. Do not deny it. I know you take great pride in it. I can see it in your face.
I also see the men in the tribes we pass through. They stare at me with lust in their eyes, but none of them dare approach me because I scare them with my beauty and savageness. I can see the fear and dislike in the eyes of the women and elders. The curiosity in the children who are hidden in the skirts of their mothers.
It is more than just the looks. I know things that others do not. The way I live in woods, hunting and living with the animals. It goes beyond, even what you and my uncles do. And I don’t know how to explain it. It is like there is something in me that just can’t be changed.”
“Child, do not worry about it. I have told you many times of how the goddess gave you to me. That spirt you feel is a gift from them. It is not something to be ashamed of. Embrace it. It is perfectly okay for you to be like that. The only people who it should bother already understand.
Or is me and your uncles not enough for you?”
“Father, you know the answer to that. You guys are enough.
Besides, even if I wanted to be like all the other people, I don’t think I could stay among them. There will always be something just off enough that I would never quite fit in. I would always be an outcast”
“Does it matter? If you are happy where you are, stay there, if not go where you wish. You are not bound by the lives of normal men. You are blessed to be whatever you wish.”
The man watched as the child grew from an innocent babe into a fierce and beautiful woman. He taught her how to use the bow and spear. How to shape knives and hunt animals. How to live on the edge of civilization. He was there in the shadows as she talked with the wolves and the trees. He watched as she communed with the streams and stones of the wild. She grew quickly. She learned everything he and the other men had to teach, and then proceeded to either prove them wrong or teach them more as she grew. Her hunger for knowledge was insatiable and her love for the wilds uncontrollable.
“Father?”
“Humm?”
“I killed a man today.”
“Oh? And why did you kill this man? I assume there was a reason.”
“It was an accident. I think. I mean. I did not mean to kill him, not really.
He was trying to take me. He saw me and all he saw was a woman to state his desires. He grabbed me. And tore at my clothes. He was trying to violate me, and then probably justify marrying me by saying no man would want damaged goods.
And I was scared, but more than that, I was angry.
So, when he threw me to ground, I grabbed a rock and bashed it against his head. Then in my anger, I grabbed his knife and plunged it into his chest.”
“Oh, my splinter. You did the right thing”
“I know that.”
“Then why are you so distraught?”
“Because, I don’t feel bad about it. And that scares me. I do not want to be a savage, who kills without remorse. It terrifies me to think that I could kill a man and not feel anything about it.”
“Child, it is okay. The very fact that you are scared for that shows that you will be fine. Do not be scared of yourself. You are human, not a beast.”
“But”
“Child. You will be wild and untamed, it is who you are. But that fierceness does not make you a savage. Do not trick yourself into believing that.”
“But, father”
“Remember, child, you are a gift from the goddess. The person you are, is who you were meant to be. A remnant of the old religion. Where men once balanced on the edge of civilization. Do not fear yourself. Understand who you are and who you are meant to be. Do not be scared of your potential"
Bibliography: "Splinter-Foot-Girl" Tales of the North American Indians by Stith Thompson:
Source
Authors Note: To be honest, this mostly for me to attempt to write the dreaded dialogue. Most of the story wrote itself and took me along for the ride. Parts of this story align closely with the original- like how the girl was born and raised, but all the rest are very lose interpretations. In the original the girl marries a bull then runs away and is helped by trees and other animals. I just wanted the girl be curious and independent. I think I managed to get that through.
