Long before the Romans set foot on Anglesey, the people of Wales spoke of a hunt that no living thing should ever cross paths with. The Cŵn Annwn — the Hounds of Annwn — were said to course through the night sky led by Arawn, king of the otherworld, baying for the souls of the wicked.
Their description is unmistakable in the Welsh tradition: snow-white coats that almost glow against the dark, and ears the colour of fresh blood. To hear their cry on the wind was a warning. To see them was almost certainly the end.
What makes Cŵn Annwn so unusual is that the further away they sound, the closer they actually are. A faint, distant howl meant the hunt was nearly upon you. A full-throated bay across the valley meant they had passed by — and chosen someone else.
They appear in the very first branch of the Mabinogi, when Pwyll, prince of Dyfed, comes across them tearing at a stag in a forest clearing. He drives them off, only to be confronted by Arawn himself. That moment of trespass leads Pwyll into a year-long bargain in the otherworld — and into one of the strangest tales in Welsh literature.
We love this myth because it is uniquely Welsh. The wild hunt appears across Europe, but only here do the hounds carry that strange beauty: white and red, beautiful and terrible at once.
When you wear something inspired by Cŵn Annwn, you are wearing a story that is older than England, older than Christianity in these isles, and still whispered in the hills of Eryri when the wind rises at night.