The Howling Mountains
The man did not have a family. He was abandoned by his parents when he was still a year old or so and was raised by kind couple who could not bare a child. His father was a skilful hunter well-known by villagers, and his wife was daughter of the chief of the village, who put every possible effort into the well-beings of the little baby. Being a relative member of the chief family, they did not have any problems although they never were wealthy.
His father had a large male hound, which he admired like a member of his family. The hound was very able as she helped his father hunting and had even successfully saved his life several times. Once in middle of winter, his father fell from a tall hill under which he was injured his legs and trapped for nights until the dog successfully alarmed his family of the emergency situation and returned with them. Various times drove off the haunt those deadly wild predators out of his father's path so that she bore numerous numbers of old scars all over body like insignias engraved onto a solid noble statue.
Days have passed away, and so are inevitable the fate of every human being as his parents were suddenly taken away of their lives. It was a cold early morning, when all the men in village were searching for a trace of his father who had not been seen for last 2 days. Although it was expected there was no chance of survival since such thing happens occasionally among villagers who were often devoured by ferocious wild carnivores, they still wish the clever hound would save him like other times, only to find out themselves mourning and disappointed when they discovered a trace of his clothes ripped apart with blood deep in the forest.
The hound was discovered three days later at the outskirt of the village. She was lightly wounded at her limping right hind leg, but recovered quickly after a few days of proper treatment from family, but never seemed to be as vivid as she was before when his father was alive. His sickly mother was in no time struck by incurable illness and died in sorrow. The man was again left alone but with the hound, and years had passed when he became one of a kind as a hunter just like his dead father, so the villagers looked up to him although he was never content. Life did not get easier; he was constantly struck by poverty, although not too critical to his survival, due to the seasonal variability of hunting, and also lack of intimacy with other member of village made him a loner and unexplainable emptiness haunted him day over day. It was the respect he had attained without noticing that kept him away from others, as nobody expected him in such a situation and they also are struck by occasional poverty, he could not take them seriously for any support.
During all these times the hound was with him and helped him hunting although her contribution was not appreciated by the man especially when she became too old to be a useful hound. When the hunting was unproductive he blamed it on the hound without hesitation, and hit her with a limb repeatedly as if he thought it were all hound's fault that his life was so miserable. One day the hound finally disappeared from his sight during hunting in the end of April. He did not care whether she had run away from his mistreatment or quietly died in the woods, but he was relieved to let his burden go.
A few months later when it was slightly snowing the man left for hunting in the same forest around the roots of the mountains. This time he accompanied a new hound which was much younger and stronger than the old one, and which had been around him for a several weeks. The new hound's keen scent to track down and his strong sharp fangs to wound preys impressed the man very well. When the dusk came, he was preparing to descend the mountain with the games he captured. About at half way home, after he carefully climbed down the steep rocks, and there he was suddenly frozen in fear when he could figure out to whom the two goblin-like eyes in darkness ferociously gazing at him belonged. His new hound had sniffed out danger and ran away beforehand so that the man did not even notice he had been gone. He could not run away fast, as the ground was covered with snow, rugged rocks and stones and the sun had already set. It was the bear which he encountered. The bear did not stop chasing him, so he expected that his life was coming to an end. Then he heard growing sound behind him mixed with the violent breath of the bear. He crawled under branches and rushed in a random direction for survival until the sound retired behind him, and at the same time he fell over a steep hill where he found himself immovable.
He heard strong but sorrowful howl, which lasted for a minute or so. He suspected that his new hound had returned to save his life, and if he was lucky, the hound may not have been badly injured and could inform the villagers what happened on him. His hope immediately faded out when he remembered the reality; nobody knew about his new hound, and not even his own existence anymore. Nobody might have known what he usually did in his life, and where and when he went for hunting. He cursed his life once more, but this time there was nothing else to blame on. And he lost his consciousness.
Next day he found himself lying on the bed in his house. Next to him were women from the village nursing his wound. His blur vision could not exactly tell who the person was at first so he mistook her for his mother for a moment. He could not speak clearly and pain run through his nerves when he tried to lift himself up. The woman told him to stay still, and before she stood up to inform the chief of the village his recovery of consciousness, he asked what had happened. The woman told him he was very lucky, just like his father, being saved by the hound. He asked where he was, but she did not know, on the contrary she asked question if it wasn't she, the old hound with full of sore wounds.
He was struck by the truth that it was the old hound, which had not given even a name but had been a part of his life all the time. When he could move by himself, he searched for a trace of her but nothing was to be found. Since then, he did not have a new hound, and told other villagers about the hound, and his life. His life was once again restored. He still went on hunting, and every sound of howl he heard in the mountain since then reminded him of her. He created a monument for the dearest member of his family, dearest thing he had ever had. Since then the mountain was given its name: the Howling Mountain.