Hermia001-
I. . .I'm sorry. I am on my way to find Iarwain Ben-Adar. Perhaps
you know where I could find him?  Sharon asked, hoping to 
distract the wolf from the flowers that had, indeed, turned from 
the red and yellow when she began, to a deep purple.  Truly I 
am sorry.

Actually, I rather like purple. I guess I should thank you.  And with
that, the large wolf reached over and took a big mouthful of the
purple flowers and began thoughtfully chewing them.  Around his
mouthful of flowers he continued.

I must say, they do taste better too. You must try some.  The wolf
slowly started walking away. He stopped and looked at the girl. 
Go ahead, Sharon. They are quite good.

You. How do you know my name? Who are you?  Sharon glanced
at the flowers and noted the little green bugs that crawled all over
the flowers. She was not going to eat that!

Of course I know who you are. I have been waiting for you. My, but
you are slow for one so young. Are you going to eat any? The wolf
asked with a hint of laughter in his voice.

Ummmm. No, thank you. I am trying to cut down on purple flowers,
Sharon said.

Suit yourself, girl. Come along then.  And he started off at a trot 
across the field of flowers. Sharon noticed that the wolf was 
beginning to make a gentle curve to the left. She didn't think this
was the right direction. Marewyn said to go straight across the field.
She stopped. She turned around to look in the direction they had
come. But was that the right direction? She couldn't tell. 
She couldn't even see the path that they had been making through
the vines. She turned to look at the wolf who had stopped and was
watching her with dark gold eyes.

Is something wrong, child? The wolf seemed to be testing her. 

Well I noticed we were traveling in a different direction to what
Marewyn had shown me. Could you tell me where we are going?
I need to find Iarwain Ben-Adar. He is supposed to help me answer
the riddle so I can get home.

Yes, Marewyn, the vexing little prank. I still don't know how he 
finds me.  The wolf starts walking again.

Sharon eyed the wolf with suspicion and awe.  Who are you?,
she asked again.  

The wolf turned to look at her and grinned. They call me Tom.

Catzenpewters-
To say that Sharon was surprised would definitely be an
understatement. She opened her mouth to speak, but no
sound came out. Feeling foolish, she closed it again and 
momentarily tore herself away from the wolf's golden gaze. 
Was this really Iarwin Ben-Adar? As she had followed Marewyn
through the fields, her mind had wandered to this Iarwin she was
supposed to meet. In all her imaginings, however, this beautiful
and daunting wolf was not at all what she had expected. 
She summoned her nerve.

You're Tom? As in Iarwin Ben-Adar?, she queried. But . . .
why didn't you say something? Is that how you knew my name?
Does that mean you can help me? She certainly hoped he
could. All of this was both fascinating and frightening, and she
felt out of her depth.

Tom made a gesture that looked much like a small bow, if indeed 
a wolf could be said to bow. His eyes continued to glint with 
amusement. "So many questions!" he grinned.  The answers 
are: yes; yes, but call me Tom; I just did; if I didn't know the 
answers, why would you be bringing me the questions: and 
perhaps, it depends on precisely what sort of help you are 
seeking.

Now Sharon knew where the term grinning wolfishly came
from. Tom could very well be the answer to her unspoken 
prayers, but still she felt a little fearful. After all, wolves were,
well, dangerous weren't they? But the day was passing quickly,
and she desperately needed answers.

Oh please, Tom, can you tell me what I have to do? Where do I
have to go, what do I have to do to answer this riddle? How will
I know the answer? Who is going to ask me this riddle? How do
I get back home? How can I stop that awful man from switching
places with me? Oh! I wish I had never spoken to that man! 
This is all so unfair!, Sharon cried. She felt the prick of tears
in her eyes again. 

She felt a strange warmth on her skin as Tom's eyes studied 
her intently.  I can take you where you need to go, Sharon, 
But you must answer the riddle yourself. You needn't worry 
about getting back to your home – you will be magically 
transported there once you solve the riddle. But the question
is, which riddle will you solve?

Sharon looked horrified. Not only did she have to answer a riddle,
but she had to choose the right riddle as well? This was 
becoming more unfair by the minute, and she felt almost as
indignant as she did afraid.  What do you mean which riddle??,
she wailed.

There are two riddles you can solve, Sharon. One is much more
difficult that the other. The first will win your freedom and return
you home. You stand a fair chance of correctly answering this
one. The second will end the curse altogether, and understand 
me when I tell you the answer will not be a simple one. You will
most likely not be able to answer correctly. You can pick only 
one riddle, and if you fail, you may not try the other.

Sharon sat down amidst the purple flowers, thinking about Tom's 
words. If she chose the easy riddle, then she could go home! 
This odd nightmare would end, and she would see Sam and her 
mother again. How worried they must be right now! Surely that 
was the correct choice?