Hello, readers! This is my first story in the Fairy Tale section, so I hope this gets good views. Anyways, let's move on.
Grimm
The Wolf watched the young girl closely.
Concealed within the thicket of the woods, two yellow eyes gleamed out through the trees to observe the young child as she played outside her mother's house. Carefully hidden, he was cautious not to make a sound as he surveyed the girl, and studied her intently.
Radiant and delicate skin, a dusting of freckles on her face and arms. Long blonde hair in two braids illuminated in the sunlight. A dark blue skirt matching the color of her eyes whirled as she spun. But what stuck out the most was the vibrant red cape and hood she wore on her at all times.
Red. That was what he had come to know her as.
The others who knew the girl referred to her as Little Red Riding Hood, but the Wolf simply stick with Red. He was not one for long words, and besides, she wasn't as little as she once was. She was still far from adulthood, but she was older than when he had first met her. Clearly, she was no longer the little girl he had once encountered.
Red had been picking the flowers and playing with them. Now, she turned and returned to her house, her red hood flashing in the Wolf's eyes.
He never could understand why Red always wore that vermilion-colored cape. While the wolf could not deny that it was a striking color, what was it about the dress that compelled the young girl to wear it wherever she went? He pondered it, but he felt he'd never know the answer.
As the door to Red's house shut, the Wolf got up and left.
If someone didn't know better, they may have assumed the Wolf was simply stalking its prey after letting her escape last time. Or maybe it was simply a pervert.
However, that was simply not the case.
Many people remembered the actual tale of how they first met a little differently. Indeed, it was true, the Wolf had talked to the girl and learned she was going to her grandmothers' house. And yes, it was true he had eaten Red's grandmother and disguised himself as her. And yes, he had tried to eat Red as well. Those were undeniable, and he was guilty as charged.
But he had not actually swallowed Red whole. Nor had the huntsman cut his stomach open and free her. And the Huntsman most surely hadn't filled his stomach with rocks. That was a ridiculous notion.
If someone told him that, he'd have said that he preferred to chew his food. And that a girl, no matter how small, would not be able to fit in his stomach while remaining intact.
And nobody could survive being cut open. It was just foolish gossip spread around the forest until it almost became a fact, no doubt as a result of a traumatized little girl's mind exaggerating events.
If someone had the courage to ask the Wolf what really happened, he'd tell them that Red was simply too fast, and that the huntsman had burst in and chased the Wolf off before he could do much damage. Thus, Red was saved, at the cost of her dear old grandmother (who the Wolf did not swallow whole).
The Wolf did not hate Red. He didn't hold grudges, the only exception being the three swines who's houses he'd blown down, and had thus burned his rump in a pot of boiling water.
Those pigs would pay for the humiliation they'd dealt him.
He was broken out of his thoughts when three bears passed by that he recognized immediately.
"Hello, Bears," The Wolf whispered as the young bear and his parents passed by.
"Evening, Lycan," Papa Bear greeted the smaller Wolf as the three passed by.
As they parted ways, the wolf couldn't help but ask, "So, why are you going out around this time?" This got the bears to stop.
"You see, my porridge was too hot," Papa Bear said with a sigh.
"Mine was too cold," Mama Bear explained.
"But mine was just right," Little Bear said joyfully. "So we're going on a walk until they've cooled down." With that, the three bears walked off before Lycan could continue his conversation.
The Wolf watched them leave, then let out a scoff. He'd heard this story before, and he had a good feeling he knew how it was going to end.
Prancing on his paws, Lycan prowled the forest, and soon reached the bears' little house in the woods. Casually slinking over to the door, the Wolf raised his front leg in the air and rested his clawed paws on the doorknob. Then, he gave it a twist.
The door was unlocked. Typical.
It appeared bears never did learn their lessons.
As the Wolf heard the sound of someone eating coming from the dinner room, he mused to himself. Striding into a house, the Wolf followed the sounds of someone slurping something delicious until he reached the dinner room.
There, sitting at the table, was Goldilocks, eating Little Bear's porridge.
It appeared foolish little girls never learned their lesson either.
With a sigh, the Wolf rose to his hind legs, strode into the dinner room, and howled to get the foolish little girl's attention. After all, if three bears couldn't knock some sense into the girl, maybe a wolf could.
"Look, someone's been eating a bear's porridge," Lycan said in a mocking imitation of Little Bear's voice. "And there she is."
The scream Goldilock's made racked his ears, but it was totally worth it. He watched in amusement as the girl dashed out of the dinner room, and he promptly got on all fours and raced after her.
He wasn't going to eat her. After all, he'd eaten humans before and they tasted disgusting. Red's granny had almost made him swore off of eating humans permanently. But he always loved scaring little girl's senseless. That, and watching things, human or not, run for their lives simply kicked in his primal nature and made him have to pursue.
The girl dashed out of the door at record speed. Lycan noted that she was even faster than Red. She was running down the pathway now, and he was giving chase.
However, then he heard Goldilock's let out an even more panic-stricken scream, and he knew that the chase had ended.
The wolf dove into the woods to avoid being seen. He peeked his head out from behind a tree to observe what was happening.
Two large men were on the pathway, holding Goldilock's in an iron grip. The frightened little girl screamed and thrashed in their tight grip, but one of the men delivered a devastating punch into the child's gut, bringing her down swiftly. A normal punch would have been brutal enough, but the man in question was wearing brass knuckles, and Goldilock's had been knocked unconscious from the blow.
"Pick her up," The man wearing the brass knuckles ordered his compatriot. The other man grabbed the unconscious girl and slung her over his soldiers. Chuckling, the two men wandered off into the woods, carrying Goldilock's.
The Wolf watched, and let out a deep sigh. This was the precise reason he had been watching Red for the past few weeks.
For Goldilock's had only been the latest child to be stolen.
Mistakes are meant for learning, not repeating.
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