Wolf Guardian Lesser Yaoguais
Description
There was a year when a young wolf followed a grey elder wolf to learn the art of hunting. The master taught him that a great hunter strikes swiftly and surely, sparing their prey from suffering. The young wolf pondered this long and hard. After years of training, he devised his own killing technique. He thought his master would be pleased with his progress, but instead, the elder wolf scolded him for disrupting the circle of karma and told him to repent. The young wolf’s mind swam with confusion at his master’s seeming contradiction.
And so, the young wolf left Black Wind Mountain and wandered the lands. On his travels, he heard folks whisper that wolves, though hardy and loyal to each other, were brutal, vicious, and treacherous. The wolf guai grew more perplexed. It seemed his years of training went against the ways of the world.
One day, as he passed through the New West, he heard tales of a dharma of ecstasy in that place that could free a troubled mind. He sought an audience with the abbot.
The abbot was a chubby monk in yellow robes who loved to change form. He heard out the wolf guai’s woes and counseled, ““Wolves are born to hunt, to slay. It is the way of your kind. Men are not the same; they are born to plow and plant, to reap and sow. Frail and feeble, such is their lot. They seek to leash you wolves with false preempts, for they hope to escape your fangs and claws. But heed me, wolf: each kind must follow the call of their blood, the song of their soul. Why should you bow to the mewling of men?””
These words lit up the wolf guai’s mind. At that moment, he knew his path lay within the halls of New Thunderclap Temple, where he would walk the road to ecstasy. The chubby monk laughed, “In my temple, we bow to none save our own hearts. Beware, for those who fear death have no place here.” The wolf guai gladly accepted and became the monk’s most loyal guardian. Armed with a scythe, he is now bound by no code save his own savage joy. Heed not a word from his tongue.
Poetry
The wolf’s heart was once kind and sound,
Misled, however, consumed by desire.
The path to return was once easily found,
Yet fate was sealed by the words of a liar.
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