Quick and nervous footsteps were making their way through the rough and ragged path amidst the stocky tress. The hooded figure kept glancing back, her face hidden in the shadow. She was carrying a large wicker basket which was covered with a blue cotton cloth. She tripped over her long blood-red cloak and nearly fell. The contents of her wicker basket spilled on the dusty path. Freshly baked bread wrapped tightly in a cloth, various fruits and a strange book rolled on the ground.
She cursed under her breath and dived to retrieve her belongings. Occasionally, she turned her head back and peered into the tress. With the wicker basket covered and secured she got up and began her swift pace through the thick forest. The red hood on her head did not slip from her head. Her face was still hidden in the darkness.
The frost was bathed in a dim light. The tall and brushy tress was blocking the radiating sunlight. They made hexagonal shinning patterns in the air. The strange hooded girl was clutching the basket so tightly that he knuckles were white.
The darkness fell in a trice. The bright full moon and the thick gliding fog made the weather chilly. The long cloak was protecting the girl who as still pacing briskly through the forest. Evidently, she was not tired and it seemed as though this was not unusual to her.
Suddenly, there was a snapping of branches behind her. It was getting louder and louder every second. The low growl caught the girl's attention. She raised her head, her face white. She had rosy cheeks, brown eyes and a few locks of her blond hair had fallen over her eyes.
A howl made the girl jump. She held onto the wicker basket tightly and made a run for it. Her hood slipped from her head revealing a blond mane. Her breaths were heavy as she sprinted through the thick forest. The way to her grandmother's house already lost in her mind. She could hear the loud snapping of branches and the noise of leaves being crushed under the weight of the creature that was chasing her.
Her foot caught on the thick and firm root. She lost her balance and fell on the rough ground, hard. All she could do now was to pray for a miracle.
Her eyes closed tight, she grimaced; waiting for death to plunge upon her and reduce her to pieces.
Heavy wind blew in her face; a strange noise filled the air. She shielded her face with her hands. She was still lying on the ground; her cloak was fluttering in the wind.
A big blue wooden box materialized before her. She looked up in disbelief, her mouth agape. She could hear the creature growling behind her. She gasped as the door of the wooden box opened with a creak. A man emerged from it. He was thin, wearing a pinstripe suit. He had hazel eyes, tousled brown hair with sideburns. His dress shirt was without a tie, a few buttons of his shirt were unbuttoned. The girl dropped her gaze.
The man looked down, his face curious. He held his hand out.
"What are you doing down here?" He asked in a modulated voice.
"I-"said the girl taking his hand and pushing herself up. She dusted her cloak and the dress she was wearing beneath it.
"Could you help me?" She asked in an alarming tone. 'Oh please, sir, something is chasing me!"
"What?"
The man pushed her behind him and took a few steps forward, he dig into his coat pocket and took out a queer silver stick. He fiddled with it and the end of the stick emitted a blue glow. It had a strange noise.
The girl spun back to look at the peculiar box. It has the words: Police "Public Call" Box written on it. Her gaze fell on the left side of the box. Her eyes went wide.
"The wolf," she whispered.
"No, nothing here," reported the man.
"What is that?" The girl's jerky voice asked. She pointed to the graffiti on the box. The man looked at it.
"Where did that come from?" He frowned moving to the box, touching the white words with his long fingers. The graffiti read: Bad Wolf.
"Please don't hurt me," the girl said in a breathy voice,
The man turned around. "Why would I do that?"
"You are with that-that wolf. The thing that was chasing me. Chasing me my whole life."
The man frowned. "I'm not"
"Then who are you?" Demanded the girl.
"The Doctor," said the man.
"That's a strange name."
"I'm a strange man."
"And that-that box, sir?" She asked pointing to the box.
"It's my ship."
"You're what? I don't trust you."
The Doctor ignored this. "What's a girl like you doing in this forest. "Surely you've noticed the time?"
"I am going to give my grandmother-something." Said the girl.
The Doctor was observing the girl curiously. It made the girl uncomfortable; she covered her head with her hood and wrapped the cloak tightly around herself.
"What's your name?" he asked.
"Rose, Rose Tyler. But I'm known as red-red riding hood, sir."
He stared at her in disbelief.
"Come again?"
"Rose Tyler, sir."
"No, no after that!"
"Red Riding Hood."