Of Wolves and Red Riding Hoods

She drew herself within, her arms locked tight around her. She looked up at the moon to howl, only to find that she no longer had a voice.

She couldn’t call out when the wolves came for her. And that would have been the end of things, except the moon intervened.

“Leave us”, she finally said, her voice shaking as much as her body.

“No”, said the Moon.

“I can handle this”, she said, before putting all the wolves to sleep, and then collapsing to the ground herself, exhausted.

He walked in quietly then, even as the moon drew panicked circles around her.

The wolves began to wake up just as he had hoisted her unconscious form on to his shoulder.

They growled at him as he made his way out of the lair, holding on to her firmly, until he finally snapped.

“Mine”, he growled.

And they slunk away quietly into the night.


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