Etwas and Attila the Hound

As related in a puppet show:

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon Attila the Hound sniffing around.

"Howdy, Attila" the elf shouted.

"Hiyya, Etwas!"

"Whatcha doin'?"

"Just smelling.  The scents of the earth tell me something different every day."

"How's that?"

"Well, yesterday I smelled five ewes, five lambs, a ram, a dog and an American.  That told me a shepherd had come through tending his flock."

"And today?"

"Just now I smelled five ewes, five lambs, a ram, a dog and an American.  That tells me that the dog and the shepherd fell asleep, the sheep ran away and the dog and the shepherd are trying to catch them."

"But if the same smells can tell you different things every day, they are meaningless."

Attila took a deep draught of odored air and sighed, "they are poetry!"

And ever since then, whenever Etwas makes rhymes, she makes sure they stink.

The elf on the shore of Hvalfjördur

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf took a journey up and across Ingolfsfjall and down onto the broken plains that lead towards Reykjavik.  Trudging and cartwheeling through the snow, Etwas continued overnight until she reached the foot of Mount Esja, the holy site of Elvendom.  She climbed the mountain reverently and placed a lupin blossom in the tiny box where Elf pilgrims left their signs.

She stood on the rock until the sky turned pink in the East and purple in the west, the sacred time when the hidden people make plans.  As soon as her skin felt warm, she trotted down the northern side until she came to the banks of Hvalfjördur, the fjord of whales.

Just at the waters edge, she found a large flat stone and she carpeted it with green moss from the mountainside to make herself a soft place.  And there she knelt and put her hands into the frigid water.  She watched her wrists refract into the efficient curved shape of two seals sleeping in parallel.  Then she put her forehead in the water and opened her eyes and saw herself in a tiny forest of algae that reminded her spirit of home in the rough places of Europe.

Then she opened her mouth and sang an Elven drinking song but in the water the notes came slower and lower than when you sing it on a tiny table.  The song sounded sadder and lasted longer than when you dance to it.

And deep in the water, a young bull calf balene heard the song and followed it until he beached himself just close enough to the shore to see the tiny elf singing and know he'd been tricked.

Meanwhile, Etwas, who preferred her mischief harmless thought to save the whale so she made herself a long rope and knit a tiny canoe from birch leaves.  She poled behind the whale and tried to save him by yanking his tail back to the deep water.

All she managed was to push and pull her boat back and forth, sloshing behind the beached whale.  But Etwas had learned about leverage so she walked along the entire south shore of Hvalfjördur with her knife, carving the ice that grew just above low tide.  Then she walked the north shore from the waterfall almost to Akranes carving the ice there.  Then she got back into her birchleaf canoe and tied the rope around the tail once more and put the other end in her mouth and towed the calf out to the deep water using her miles-long oars.

And ever since then, whales hardly ever fall in love with any singer smaller than krill.

Etwas and the idle bunnies

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came upon a troop of black and white bunnies holding down some grass.

As Etwas watched, one of the bunnies up and hopped over the one beside her.  The others just sat and twitched.  Then a third on stepped forward and the others still sat and twitched.  Etwas watched for hours and the herd never moved except that from time to time one would hop over another or jump forward or turn around or face each other or face away from each other.  One might look to her right and another to his left and sometimes two would look down while two others looked up. Nothing was eaten and no-one was chased and nobody chased and all were chaste and the center of gravity for the whole bunch of bunnies hardly moved at all.

"Howdy!" Etwas cried at last, thinking the poor bunnies had nothing to do.  "Do you guys want to play a game?"

The bunnies just sat and twitched until one looked over at Etwas and a few looked away from her and some looked down at their noses.

"I know some really great games!" Etwas promised.  "There's pin-the-tuft-on-the-tail, and Loopy-ear, if you like to gamble.  3D Red Rover is fun if you feel like hopping."

One of the bunnies turned backwards without looking at Etwas.  The rest mainly just twitched.  One scratched, I suppose.

"Or maybe," Etwas baited, "we can play 'Chase the fox.'  That's a great game as long as everyone's of age."

Etwas continued to offer games like luckybones and carrotnose and carnival of crows until finally a white rabbit with black hair on towards the back of his head said "No thank you.  We're kind of busy."

And ever since then, no matter how idle she is, Etwas always sets aside a little time for distraction.

The Elf and the platinum pony

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she saw a pony running through a meadow.  It's mane and tail shone in the sunlight as it ran.  It's face was a darker silver but still seemed to glow.  On its flanks, sweat glistened over shining silver fur.

The pony turned in the field and when it was facing the little knoll on which Etwas was standing she saw it's eyes were a vivid green and no white could be seen in them.

Finally the argent pony stopped at a small, limpid pond and lowered its muzzle for a sip of clean water.  Then it snorted and kicked and bucked and Etwas, swinging from the pony's tail yelled "Yee-ha! Fancy silver might be but it yanks the same as you and me."

And ever since then, Etwas has hoped to find a golden pony.

Etwas and the sheep rodeo

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she found herself looking down at a valley pasture full of sheep on a rainy and windy day.  She sprinted down the hill and ran up to the lead ewe.   

Etwas jumped on its back and cuddled herself into the wool.  It was nice and warm and she started to fall asleep when she thought about the opportunity presented by a whole herd of sheep.  She plucked a long strand of wool and tied her tiny metal knife to the end.  Then she climbed up onto the ewe's head and swung the knife in a circle.  Faster and faster it spun and the strand of wool began to whir.

In the distance, lightning stuck a hilltop and the reflection from the knife looked like a halo of sparks to the ewe who took flight, bucking and jumping as she ran.  Etwas grabbed two fistfuls of head wool and rode the wild sheep.  

Within moments the other sheep were ready to credit the ewe with an iron temperament.  If she was scared, it must be for a better reason than a bronc-busting, rope twirling elf.  They ran too and soon the flock was covering the pasture in kicked mud and muck and shed hair.  Etwas jumped from one sheep to the next, twirling her noisemaker.  "Yee-haw!" she yelled as she did a blackflip from one sheep's rump to the head of the frightened ram behind it.

"Yickety-yi!" she yelled as a gust pulled her from the ear of a lamb and blew her under the chest of another ewe.  The sheep stampeded and the little elf jump and bounced and twirled her lariat for hours until the cold and the rain made her shiver.  Then she did crawl into the warm wool of a young lamb and caught up on some sleep.

And ever since then, the wisdom of the elves records that every opportunity is a choice and every choice an opportunity and the wise elven adventurer chooses the cozy nap first.

Etwas and the sanctified Puffin

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came up over a hilltop and down in the valley below, she saw a puffin cleaning its feathers.  Etwas bounded down to say hello when a clatch of budgies gathered around the puffin and bowed.

 Another cohort of budgies landed around the puffin and anointed the larger bird with oil.  Then another landed and coated the puffin with wax.  The glistening, noble bird flapped its wings but went nowhere.  Then it went to the water and tried to fish but couldn't break the surface.  Finally, the puffin called out a tirade of profanity that melted the wax and dispersed the oil.

And ever since then, Etwas tries to remember that puffins and paraffin don't mix.

Etwas and the flea with a fiddle.

Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of green grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she came to a crossroads.  Standing there was a flea with a fiddle.

"Howdy, Mr. Flea!" Etwas said.

"Are you a demon?" the flea asked.

"No, I'm an elf.  Why?"

The flea held up the violin.  "I just hoped someone would teach me to play."

"Well," Etwas said while thinking.  "Wanna go jump up and down on a cat?  That's a great game!"

"I know that game.  I want someone to teach me how to play the violin"

"Gosh."

"Fleas have so many sorrows.  I want to be the best blues player of all."

Etwas considered this.  "But, aren't demons always happy?" she asked.

And ever since then, whenever a flea meets an elf, they just cut straight to the cat-hopping.