After last week’s post about the warm and kind goddess(es) Żywia/Vesna, we’re going darker this Slavic Saturday with a creature famous in both Slavic mythology as well as western tales: the Wilkołak or Werewolf (in other Slavic languages: Vukodlak, Vlkolak, Vlkodlak, Volkodlak, верво́льф, Вукодлак, or Вовкулака).
(June 2021 Updated) Note: If you enjoy Slavic mythology, check out A Dagger in the Winds, the first book in my Slavic fantasy series called The Frostmarked Chronicles. You can also join my monthly newsletter for updates and free novellas (such as the prequel, The Rider in the Night) set in the world of the series.
The folklore around werewolves is one that ranged across tribes and nations throughout much of Europe. The creature was prominent in Greek mythology beforehand as well as western regions, but despite the passing of the creature between cultures, the Wilkołak takes on a unique twist within Slavic mythology. This begins with two key characters: the wolf and the witch.
The “Wolf” in “Wolf-Man”
Though we’ll talk about the crucial role of wolves in another post, it’s important to understand how important the animal was in early Slavic culture. The wolf itself formed the basis of a common name of the Wilkołak in many countries: the Vukodlak – meaning “wolf fur.” Many characteristics of the Wilkołak come from wolves as well.
To the early Slavs, the wolf was a symbol of gods such as Dadźbóg/Dazhbog (the white wolf specifically), Marzanna/Morana, Weles/Veles, and sometimes Dziewanna/Devana as well. It symbolized the ferocity of nature and was meant to be respected and often revered. The wolf also howls at the moon and was believed to have some connection to the phases of the moon, which will connect to the Wilkołak later.
This combination of fear and worship was common for the early Slavs with both the gods and creatures such as the wolf and bear. While the bear was often considered more kingly, though, the wolf was an aggressive outsider, willing to strike the shepherd’s flock. This could be literal or a representation of the fear of outsiders. Nearly every Slavic village in pagan times was unfortified, and an invader could strike at any time. Naturally, this combination of the fear of both wolf and man manifests (in one form of the Wilkołak) as a wolf-man.
As a note, reverence *seems* to be the more powerful force in Slavic folklore when it comes to the wolf. The mixing of it and fear, though, is an important concept to understanding both Slavic wolf folkore and the Wilkołak. This reverence became much more restricted when Christianity arrived, and only then did beliefs sprout up about eating wolf meat causing you to turn into a Wilkołak. The pagan beliefs were quite different.
The Making of a Wilkołak
So, if the Christian idea of eating wolf meat and the Western idea of being bit by a werewolf aren’t the ways one becomes a Wilkołak in Slavic mythology, then how did it happen?
The Wilkołak is different than many other creatures we’ve talked about for one key reason: it isn’t undead. While it is fair to classify it as a “demon” in a vague definition of the word as used often in mythology, the Wilkołak is not the lingering soul of someone who died unnaturally or lived an unnatural life. Instead, there are a variety of ways one is made during life, but regardless of the reason, the appearance of a half-man half-wolf creature is similar to the popular appearance of the werewolf.
The first way one becomes a Wilkołak is voluntarily. Like many demons in Slavic folklore, powerful enough witches and sorcerers could shape-shift into a Wilkołak (at least in Belarusian versions of the creature, source: Wilhemina Took) or other creatures. Processes for this differed, but one story involves the sorcerer leaping over knives placed on the stump of an ash tree (often one struck by lightning). In these cases, the change was temporary and the sorcerer would simply do the ritual backward to shift back.
It was also possible to become one unwillingly, though.
One such possibility was to be one from birth – similarly to some other demons like the Strzyga and the human form of the Płanetnik/Zduhać. Most commonly told of in the Carpathian regions, this version of the Wilkołak was typically considered punishment for the poor actions of one’s parents (or simply being born at the wrong time or in the wrong direction). It also aligns more with the typical western view of the werewolf, changing forms between human and Wilkołak under eclipses and certain phases of the moon (as, like the wolf, the Wilkołak was believed to have this connection to the moon). In their human form, they were hairy, but there was little else to identify them besides forgetting their actions at night. This Wilkołak, like most others, could heal quickly and was incredibly powerful. The unique thing about it, though, is its carnivorous (and sometimes cannibalistic) tendencies – making it more relevant to being a demon. Despite this, it is key to remember that attacking people did not turn those people into Wilkołaks as well in Slavic folklore.
The final way one becomes a Wilkołak is by a curse. A variety of curses were possible in Slavic folklore, and while we don’t know of most of them, tales tell of witches and sorcerers turning people into Wilkołaks. Two ways to do this were by throwing a wolf pelt over their victim’s head or leading them through an enchanted doorway. In these cases, the Wilkołak’s transformation was permanent until the curse ran out or people shortened their time as one through various rituals. The transformed person was conscious and, unlike the ones who changed from birth, wept often. These people often were said to be treated with pity more than fear.
There is another tale that was beyond the reaches of early Slavic paganism as well that is still fascinating to look at. In Ukraine, cossacks sometimes were believed to have werewolf tendencies. It was not widespread, but it could be compared to the berserkers in Norse culture who were said to have the spirit of certain animals as they fought.
In The Frostmarked Chronicles
Though Wilkołaks won’t be appearing in A Dagger in the Winds, the first book of my Slavic fantasy series, the creation of them, both unwilling and willing, is a fascinating part of the myths that will be in the series. Witches and gods alike need creatures to fight for their causes, and what’s better than a man infused with a wolf? Wacław, particularly, will have a quite shocking encounter with such a beast in book 2 – one that will change everything when he does.
That’s all for this week’s Slavic Saturday. Be sure to keep a lookout for more posts next week, and if you haven’t seen the full series of posts, be sure to check them out.
*As always just a quick disclaimer. Slavic mythology is broad and not written in many if any primary sources, so there’s a variety of interpretations. The interpretations I’m using here are from the sources I’ve found to be reliable and as well as some creative freedom for my book series.