Another fascinating tale, again untitled, from Gwillym Pen Pwyll concerned werewolves and details that seemed particular to Wales in relevance to the legend. The poem, which Gwillym recited, changed accordingly, altering the location across Britain; my father did not remember the title of the poem, concerning a girl from a farming family who was soon to be married to the eldest son from another farm. She was a werewolf and had a pelt of wolf skin which still had its hair. Her husband suspected her of killing sheep, as did his mother, and the girl told them a magic charm that brought her under control and would stop her attacking them. Once she took the pelt off, the girl would be her normal self once more. The story offers another strange version of events.

There were wolves not so long ago that had a human understanding and you would be well-advised to carry a silver coin with you if you ever came across one and throw it at the damn creature if you felt threatened. An old maid lived in a cottage in the woods. She was mean and her nearest neighbours in the village wondered how she ate so well. She always seemed to have fresh meat on the table if a traveller happened to stop by and ask if she had a room for the night. A lad became curious one day and hid in her outhouse until he saw her sneaking out. She pulled a thick pelt out of her apron pocket and put it on her waist, cackling, as the lad, closing his eyes in fright, saw that she had turned into a wolf and ran into the woods. You can guess what happened when she came home. She had killed a sheep and was eating it. The lad could not speak when he ran back to the village and told his mother. His mother could not understand what he was babbling about. When she finally understood, she called all the men of the village together and told them.  A few hours later, they waited in the field near the old maid’s cottage and watched as she transformed herself. This ended her despicable ways, for the lad’s father fired his pistol that had a silver bullet in the chamber. The wolf pelt fell from her body and she changed to her old self. The men demanded her death immediately. The preacher stopped them because he had more sense.” The wound in her arm would never heal”, he said,” and that would be God’s punishment on her. From that day the old maid remained her old self and was courteous if she ever met her neighbours.