Disclaimer: I do not own the fairytale of Red Riding Hood, nor any of the associated characters. The twist, and anyone you recognise from previous 'Timeless Tales' belongs to me, and permission should be asked before borrowing them.

Summary: Ruby was getting very, very sick of having to hide out at her grandmothers because it was the only place Adrian Wolfe wouldn't follow her. Well, not after Grandmother introduced her cast iron skillet to his groin, anyway.
A retelling of 'Little Red Riding Hood', in which Stalking because you "can't stay away" is NOT romantic, but a giant red flag, and the Big Bad Wolf isn't quite so obviously a villain.
Sequel to Cinderella Grows a Spine and Snow White Learns Stranger Danger.

Chapter One

The path through the dense trees was thin, but well-worn, and so familiar to the young woman who walked it that she could likely have done so in her sleep.

Ruby couldn't stop her eyes from darting nervously as she clutched the basket that contained a picnic lunch and a short, hardwood baton, making her way to a cottage in the woods.

Well, they were not so much 'woods' as a large strand of trees surrounding a comfortable cottage built on the edge of the local Manor, because Grandmother liked her privacy. Besides, the rough, winding path that led through the woods and up to the grand estate on the other side discouraged casual visitors.

So did the even odds that several of the manor's residents would be playing outdoor tactical games. It was common knowledge at the manor that Ruby visited on Tuesdays, and that Grandmother's cottage was best avoided if you didn't want a blistering lecture from a woman old enough not to care about being labelled a scold.

Still, there was always the chance of a newcomer who was unaware of these things, and after the last time a misunderstanding occurred (John, the other youth involved, still winced whenever the fiasco came up in conversation). In the interest of avoiding a repeat of that incident with someone else, Ruby was careful to keep an eye on her surroundings. Grandmother said that observation and having an escape route to hand were useful skills to cultivate, anyway.

Ruby shared the general opinion that if Grandmother said something, then it was probably true, even if it did sound a little paranoid.

'Grandmother' was not actually related to Ruby, or to any of the others of Ruby's generation who called her Grandmother. Rather, she was Miss Sophia d'Argent, the Gentlewoman who owned the Manor near the village where Ruby lived, which had later been turned into a finishing school of some kind. Grandmother Sophia had run the finishing school until she retired, moving into a small cottage on the grounds.

Such familiarity between a noblewoman and villagers would normally be unthinkable, but Sophia had been a fixture of the village for more than thirty years, and the childless spinster didn't mind being called Grandmother as a term of affection and respect.

Grandmother Sophia walked with a cane (though how much the cane was for support and how much was for thwacking the shins of cheeky youngsters was up for debate), her hair was streaked with white, and she had less energy and carried more wrinkles now than in Ruby's earliest memories of her. To the admiration and amusement of those who knew her, however, she did not view age as an excuse for anything except a lack of diplomacy.

To hear the village elders talk, Grandmother hadn't bothered to mince words before she had advanced age as justification, either. Many people (quietly and only ever when she wasn't present) sited that as the reason Grandmother Sophia had never married.

Ruby idolised the old woman.

As far as she and many of the other village girls were concerned, Grandmother Sophia was a role model of the highest caliber, and times were changing. Any youth who wanted to return to the times when a woman's opinions were indistinguishable from those of a doormat would find himself with a sudden lack of female company, and little sympathy for his plight.

The thought inspired a rush of warm solidarity at the memory of the pact she and her friends had made, but the air inspired a small shiver, and Ruby wrapped her cloak a little tighter around her as the wind changed and the sun dipped behind a cloud. Still, she could not resist a smile as she lifted the hood, her hand caressing the brightly coloured fabric.

Ruby loved her red cloak.

For as long as she could remember, it had been a fixture of her wardrobe, practical but beautiful, the vibrant red wool sewed by her mother, aunts and grandmother, the body of each cloak remade into the hood of the next as she outgrew them. It was a tradition that carried on to the children of her aunts, each in a different colour, and Ruby could feel the love that went into every stitch.

One day, she planned to continue the tradition with her own children, and hoped that Grandmother would live to sew the first of those cloaks, as well.

The trees opened into a small clearing, at the centre of which was a cottage with a thatched roof and smoke wafting out of the chimney. Ruby hurried her pace, hoping that the smoke meant that Grandmother had been baking, and knocked on the door.

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A/N: OK, so this is the first chapter of my new Twisted Fairytale.

The complete versions of Snow White Learns Stranger Danger and Cinderella Grows a Spine can be found on Amazon, under the pen-name Natasja Rose. Teasers can be found on my profile

As always, feedback and constructive criticism are the lifeblood of a writer, and even comments on what you didn't like are very much appreciated, because they help me figure out where I need to improve.

Thanks,

Nat