Ulfr and Vargr: Two Old Norse Words for Wolf by Imelda Almqvist

In September 2025, a group of Seiðr students, here at my Forest School, decided to howl like wolves on the Forest Edge (by the local ash tree we call Yggdrasil). To our amazement, the local wolf pack howled back several times!

Old Norse had two different words for wolf: vargr and úlfr. Only one of those words is still in use as the first name for a boy or man in Scandinavia: Ulf (and the female version of this name is Ylva). Those names were fairly popular in the 20^th century but sound a touch old-fashioned in the 21^st century.

Our word wolf in English (and many other Western languages) is derived from úlfr as follows: Proto-Norse *ᚹᚢᛚᚠᚨᛉ (*wulfaʀ) (attested in compound names), from Proto-Germanic *wulfaz, from Proto-Indo-European *wĺ̥kʷos. For comparison, the Old Saxon word was wulf. But in contemporary Swedish, the word for wolf is varg!

The word úlfr emphasizes the more positive aspects of wolves, such as their power and loyalty to the pack. However, the word vargr refers to a monster, a very frightening creature. In human terms, it was used for outlaws: the “vargr” was the person who had been placed outside the safety and protection of the community. They lived a “lawless” life in the wilderness, and there was no punishment for killing this person.

The most famous (notorious) wolf of the Norse pantheon is, of course, Fenris or Fenrir, who is linked to Ragnarök. He is a child of (equally notorious) trickster god Loki and the giantess Angrboða. His siblings are Jörmungandr, the Midgard Serpent, and Hel, the Norse goddess of the Land of the Dead (not to be confused with Christian “Hell”).

Fenris started life as a cute pup, running around Asgard, the domain of the Aesir gods. He was looked after by the god Tyr. As is the way of kittens, puppies and human babies, Fenris soon grew bigger and stronger. The gods found this alarming because they knew the ancient prophecy about Ragnarök. Any day now, they would no longer be able to control him, so they decided to chain him up.

Doing this was not exactly straightforward. They attempted to do this, using different types of chains, but Fenris broke free with ease. Now there was only one option left: they asked the dwarfs to forge a magical ribbon or fetter instead. This fetter was called Gleipnir, and it was crafted from six impossible ingredients;

The sound of a cat’s footfall
The beard of a woman
The roots of a rock/mountain
The sinews of a bear
The breath of a fish
The spittle of a bird.

It appeared soft but possessed supernatural powers. Fenris had a bad feeling about this. The gods tricked him into trying it and promised to set him free if he couldn’t break the tether. Fenris said he would only cooperate if one of the gods placed a hand (or arm) in his mouth, as a sign of good faith. Only Tyr, the spiritual warrior god, agreed to do this. Unsurprisingly, he lost his hand or arm, because Fenris bit down in rage, as soon as he realised he was trapped. Bound by Gleipnir, Fenrir was chained to a rock with a sword placed in his mouth to keep it open. And here he remains, fated to break free at Ragnarök. He will then join the Forces of Chaos, fighting against the gods and devour Odin. (Odin’s son, Víðarr, is prophesied to avenge his father by slaying Fenrir, either by tearing his jaws apart or stabbing him in the heart.)

Fate was said to be carved by the Norns (or Powers of Fate), and even the gods could not escape the fate carved for them.

But in truth, I feel for Tyr, the Norse god I have a close connection to, because he felt forced (by circumstances and the greater good of safeguarding the existing world for now) to betray a wolf companion he had raised and loved.

Ultimately, the story of Fenris reflects a precarious balance between Creation and Destruction. Creation and growth will burst their bounds and become dangerous if they go unchecked (we see plenty of examples of this in our current time: a psychopathic focus on expansion and economic growth at the expense of many beings, human and non-human). The Forces of Destruction curb this, and thus they create space for new beginnings: fertility and cross-fertilization.

What about the mother of Fenris? You might ask. Well, his mother was Angrboða, a jötunn (“giant”, which is an unfortunate translation that has stuck). She is the mother of some of the most fearsome (intimidating) beings in Norse cosmology. Angrboða’s name translates to “the one who brings grief” or “she who offers sorrow.” She lives in Jarnviðr or the Ironwood Forest. I made an art video about her (and the insights I was granted through working with her) in 2019. It took me into deep dreaming about the Fenris Wolf and also our inner wolf – the cosmic balance between Creation and Destruction. Here is the link:

Angrboða Mother of Wolves ART VIDEO by Imelda Almqvist May 2019

I invite you all to reflect on the balance between the forces of creation and destruction in your own life. Can destruction (crisis, loss, grief) bring renewal?

What would happen if we could stop change, and our lives would become static or stagnant?

In the near future, I will record an episode on the Pagan Portal Podcast with author Rachel Roberts (author of Lupa and Wolf), where we talk about the mirrors, key teachings and paradoxes offered by wolves. Stay tuned and check it out, please (when it appears)!