Way up in Asgard, the home of the gods, lived a god named Loki. Loki was known for his clever tricks, and he had some very unusual children. One of them was a wolf pup named Fenrir.

At first, Fenrir was just a fluffy little puppy, and the gods thought he was quite cute. They let him play in their golden halls. But Fenrir didn't stay little for long. He ate and ate, and he grew and grew! Soon, he wasn't just a big dog; he was a GIANT wolf, with teeth as sharp as knives and a growl that could shake the mountains.

The gods, like Odin the Allfather and Thor with his mighty hammer, started to get a bit worried. "This wolf is getting too big and too strong!" they whispered to each other. They knew a prophecy that said Fenrir would cause big trouble one day.

So, they decided they needed to tie him up. "Fenrir," they said, trying to sound playful, "you're so strong! Let's play a game. We'll tie you with this chain, and let's see if you can break it!"

The first chain they brought was very thick and strong. They called it Læðingr. Fenrir, who liked showing off, wagged his enormous tail. "Sure!" he woofed. They tied him up. Fenrir took a deep breath, flexed his mighty muscles, and SNAP! The chain broke into a hundred pieces. The gods looked at each other. "Hmm," said Odin.

So they made another chain, even stronger and heavier than the first. This one was called Dromi. "Alright, Fenrir," they said, "try this one! It's much, much stronger!" Fenrir grinned his wolfy grin. They tied him with Dromi. Fenrir pulled, he strained, he wiggled his shoulders, and CRACK! Dromi shattered just like the first one.

Now the gods were really, really worried. What could hold such a powerful wolf? Odin knew who to ask: the clever dwarves who lived deep underground. These dwarves were master builders and could make anything.

The gods went to the dwarves and asked, "Can you make something that Fenrir cannot break?"
The dwarves, with their long beards and twinkling eyes, said, "Yes, we can. But it will be made of very special things."

So the dwarves got to work. They made a binding, but it wasn't a heavy chain. It looked like a soft, silken ribbon. They called it Gleipnir. What was it made of? It was made from:
The sound of a cat's footfall (when a cat walks so quietly you can't hear it).
The beard of a woman (women don't usually have beards!).
The roots of a mountain (mountains don't have roots like trees!).
The sinews of a bear (the stretchy, strong parts of a bear, but these were magical).
The breath of a fish (fish breathe water, not air!).
And the spittle of a bird (birds don't really spit!).
Because it was made of these impossible things, it was incredibly strong, even though it looked delicate.

The gods took the silky ribbon, Gleipnir, back to Fenrir. "Fenrir, our strong friend!" they called out. "We have one last little game. If you can break this tiny ribbon, everyone will know you are the strongest creature ever!"

Fenrir looked at the thin, soft ribbon. He was a smart wolf. "Hmm," he growled, his eyes narrowed. "That little thing looks too weak. I think this might be a trick. If it is a trick, and I cannot break it, you must promise to set me free. And to show you are not tricking me, one of you must put your hand in my mouth while you tie me."

All the gods looked at each other. Who would dare put their hand in Fenrir's giant mouth, full of sharp teeth? Only one god was brave enough: Tyr, the god of courage. Tyr stepped forward. "I will do it," he said, and he placed his right hand into Fenrir's mouth.

The other gods quickly tied Fenrir with Gleipnir, the silken ribbon. Fenrir tensed his muscles. He pulled. He tugged. He twisted and thrashed and roared with all his might! But the soft ribbon didn't break. In fact, the more he struggled, the tighter Gleipnir became. He could not break free!

Fenrir knew he had been tricked. And because the gods would not untie him (they were too afraid of what he might do), Fenrir, in his anger and frustration, bit down hard. SNAP! Tyr's hand was gone. Tyr didn't cry out, though it must have hurt terribly. He was the bravest of the gods.

All the other gods (except for poor Tyr) were relieved. Fenrir was finally bound! They took the giant wolf to a lonely, faraway island. They tied one end of Gleipnir to a huge boulder and buried it deep in the earth. To stop Fenrir from biting, they propped a sword in his mouth, with the handle on his lower jaw and the point against his upper jaw. Fenrir howled in rage, and the drool that poured from his mouth formed a foaming river.

And there, Fenrir the giant wolf waits, bound by a magical, silken ribbon made of impossible things, until the day of Ragnarok, the end of the world.

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