The forest was deathly silent as the girl with the hooded red cloak wound her way through the trees. Her footfalls were the only sound in the eerie stillness. The crunch of leaves or the snap of a twig underfoot was that much louder with nothing else to mask it. It was late fall, dusk, and chilly, but even that did not explain the quiet. No birds sang, no squirrels chattered, even the cold wind was still. To the blonde girl, this wasn't much different than her village now. Perhaps she had cursed this forest, too.

The village, which lay on the other side of the entrance to these woods, was now officially deserted. God's punishment had descended upon it, laying waste in a matter of weeks. Crops molded in the fields, the hands that would have harvested them now cold and stained with the evidence of the judgment that had taken them. Rachel Gardner, the seventeen-year-old maiden walking the woods, had that same judgment upon her, too. But instead of laying forever still in her cold bed back home like the rest of her village, she now wandered the woods like a phantom. Hands bruised with evidence of her recent illness, she clutched at her cloak as she continued on, shielding herself from the cold.

She could barely bring herself to think about those morbid things, though. She was barely thinking at all. As such, a sudden movement close behind startled her back into herself. Turning, her cape barely shifting about her body, she could see nothing behind her. The light was weak now, almost completely gone, but someone – something – had certainly just been there. The only real evidence was a single dead leaf dancing in the air. She watched it, weighing exactly what it could mean.

Heart beating in her ears, Rachel slowly turned back the way she had been going. She felt it before she saw it, hot puffs in the cold evening air. Its breath hit her cheek, tempting her to shut her eyes tightly so she wouldn't have to see her impending demise. She kept them open instead, sliding them reluctantly towards the predator.

The first thing she was struck by was just how large it was. The creature absolutely dwarfed her by comparison, causing her to shrink back a half-step. It towered above her as she fell in its shadow; she didn't even come up to its shoulder. Finally gathering the courage to lift her eyes fully, she dared look at its face.

Its face was vaguely human shaped, hooded with some kind of cloak. The hood only deepened the evening shadows, rendering its face inscrutable. The only things she could make out were a row of sharp white teeth and two burning red eyes. As it breathed, wisps of steam escaped its fangs and the two red embers were fixed on her. Despite herself, Rachel trembled.

"Little girl," it growled, "Didn't your parents tell you to stay outta the woods at night? There's wolves out here." Rachel stared, frozen. The voice was scratchy, grave, and male. The threat lying under the surface of his words was evident. She managed a hesitant step backwards, but he followed, making the gap between them even smaller. He cocked his head to the side and she could see a decidedly canine ear twitch at top of his hood. He wasn't human.

"I always like a little exercise before dinner," he continued, "but you humans don't run too fast. That's why I'm gonna give ya a three second head start. Better start runnin' if ya don't wanna get eaten!" Rachel's blue eyes widened as an unbidden pang of fear struck her heart. The wolf man held up three fingers on his right hand; each finger was tipped with a wicked black claw. The moon hadn't risen yet, but whatever light remained glinted keenly off the curves of those talons. Each one was surely as deadly as a knife.

Even seeing that, her feet felt heavy. It wasn't until he began counting that the reality of the situation set in. If Rachel didn't run, she was going to be this wolf's dinner. And although she knew she deserved that fate and had actually come to this forest specifically to fulfil that fate, suddenly coming face-to-face with the reality of it caused her to panic. Her survival instinct rebelled against her guilt and morality; by the time the wolf lowered one finger and sounded out his "three", she had turned and fled through the leaf litter.

True to his word, the wolf dutifully counted out "two" and "one" before bolting into the forest behind her. With a delighted howl, he gave chase. He was fast, faster than any human, especially one weak from illness and hunger like Rachel was. She didn't need to see him chase her. That would only distract her and slow her down. Besides, he was making no effort to hide his noise; it was easy to tell where he was just from the racket he was making. His racing footsteps, his maniacal laughter, his howl, and her blood pounding in her ears all served to nearly deafen Rachel.

Since there was no way to out run him, Rachel knew she had to find a place to hide. She was too short to climb any of the bare trees she passed by, and if she hid under a pile of leaves he could certainly find her by scent. But as she ran, she could vaguely make out a large, dark shape on the other side of the copse she was traveling through. She hadn't been keeping careful track of where she was, but she had a sharp memory. If she was correct, that would have been the home of the village doctor who lived on the outskirts of town.

Wasting no time, Rachel poured the last of her energy into sprinting towards the cabin's dark porch. The house was dark, leading her to believe that its resident, Danny, was out on a house call. They weren't close – she usually only saw him to fetch hangover medicine for her father – but she doubted he would begrudge her a hiding place for the moment.

Mounting the porch, Rachel stretched a hand towards the front door. As she pushed it open, she thanked God that it hadn't been locked. A second later, she heard a heavy footstep stomp onto the bottom wooden step. He was there close behind her now. Rachel couldn't hold back a gasp as she felt his clawed fingers brush the back of her cloak. But she was just a fraction of a second fast enough; she passed through the door and quickly slammed it behind her. Without wasting a single second, she fastened the deadbolt. It wasn't a moment too soon; he was trying to tear the doorknob off. There was a large wooden bar set off to the side of the door; with a little luck, Rachel was able to leverage herself to be able to drop it into the slots on either side of the door frame. After a few more moments, the noise stopped and Rachel was able to slump against the door and slide to the floor. She watched helplessly as a shadow quickly moved across the light from the front windows and then vanished.

Why was she afraid? This was what she'd come to the woods for. She knew when she first set foot out here that this was what happened to people who traveled at night through the forest. Well, not entirely; knowing something was likely to result in death was not the same as knowing exactly how it would happen. Her reaction to being face-to-face with that man-eater was probably utterly normal.

She was just such a coward. She should have stood firm and let the wolf devour her. It was what she deserved for bringing that awful judgment to their village. It was what she deserved for surviving when everyone else had died. Had she any tears left, she might have cried then. But there was nothing left.

After a minute or two, her heartrate and breathing returned to normal and Rachel was able to look around. She was in the front room of the doctor's cabin, where he would meet with the villagers when they called on him. There were all the normal accoutrements of a drawing room: chairs, books, shelves. Set amongst jars of salve and dried herbs, she found a candle and a silver tinder box on the table underneath the window (it was a miracle the wolf didn't try to break it). After another few moments, she had a small, strong light.

Moving further back into the cabin was probably for the better. If she was away from windows, there was less chance the wolf might see her and attempt to break the doctor's property. She could move on to her death tomorrow, after she had apologized properly to the doctor for coming in uninvited. To that end, there was a door set against the back wall of the waiting room, so that was the best place to start.

Rachel had never been back there. She assumed it was a living space, or maybe a more private operating area. What she wasn't expecting exactly was for the door to open into a fairly narrow hallway with a staircase off to her left. The wall directly across from her held three doors. She figured the best door to start with was directly across from her and when she heard a door shut on the other side of it, that sealed the issue. Someone was in there. Was the doctor home after all?

Rachel turned the doorknob and slowly cracked the door open. This room was dark, also. The only light came in through a window on the far side of the room, which was set into the wall beside the back door. A bed with curtains occupied the middle of the room, and tables holding various medical instruments lined the walls. This must have been an operating room. And there, standing before the window, was the doctor.

"Doctor?" Rachel asked softly. Although her candle illuminated the parts of the room closest to her, the doctor was still in deep shadow, silhouetted by the rising moon outside

"What?" he replied, voice scratchy. Rachel's eyebrows pinched together.

"You sound hoarse," she nearly whispered.

"My throat's dry."

Then she caught sight of the doctor's hands.

"What… big hands…"

"The better to catch you with…"

He began to turn away from the window and Rachel felt her heart thump in her ears. The candlelight reflected off his pupils. The moon glinted off his canines as he smiled.

"What big... teeth…"

"The better to eat you with!"

Rachel took a step back and felt her foot connect with something soft and firm. Before she could register what she'd just stepped on, the door was slammed shut behind her and she was knocked to the ground. Her candle was knocked out of her hand in a single strike. It fell to the polished wood floor, rolling away from her. Just before it sputtered out, she saw what had nearly tripped her; the doctor's open glass eye glinted in the candlelight, his face a stiff mask of death. She only saw it for a second, but he was definitely many days dead and covered in dark black spots. She had probably stepped on his hand. The judgment had already claimed him.

That was the least of her problems, though. The wolf was straddled across her waist, holding her down with his weight. Before she could react, he'd clamped her wrists to the floor with his clawed hands. A few drops of his drool landed on her cheek, causing her to flinch and whimper.

Don't look away. Don't hide this time. Face God's judgment. You deserve this. This will absolve the sin. You deserve this.

"You're so bony!" he cackled, "But beggars can't be choosers, right? It's almost winter, pickin's are slim! Hey, you can cry if you wanna! Gimme a little light dinner music, girl!"

Rachel stilled and kept her eyes on him. She could see him a little better now. His face was wrapped in bandages, with a slash of black hair falling out of his hood. There was no muzzle or maw; his features were human as far as she could see. The scarce light reflected off his eyes, making them glow. But her first impression of his teeth had been mostly correct; they were white, sharp, and could most definitely rend her flesh. But his expression was changing now, from one of delight to something else. The longer she looked at him, the unhappier he looked.

"What the hell, girl? Did I scare you too much to cry? Stop bein' fuckin' boring!"

"I'm ready," she said, a preternatural calm falling over her, "You can eat me now." It only took a moment for him to register what she'd just said. His weight vanished from her body so fast that she gasped. His ears flattened against his hood as he recoiled and she could see a look of disgust overtake his expression.

"Like hell I will now!" he snarled. "No human ever offered a wolf anything with no strings attached! I might be a dumbass, but I'm not a sucker!" Rachel stared up at him from the floor with wide eyes. Just like that, he wasn't going to eat her? Had she escaped her well-deserved death a third time? Her body took a moment to respond, as though she was waiting for permission to move. When he turned away and stomped towards the bed, Rachel figured it would be alright to sit up.

"You… aren't going to eat me?" she asked, confused and a little hurt. The wolf flopped onto the edge of the doctor's bed, slouching forward to rest his hands on his knees. His tail swished behind him in frustration; Rachel had just noticed the fluffy black appendage, seeing it was dirty and matted as well. He cast a shining golden glare at her.

"I ain't that stupid," he growled. "You probably got a huntsman waitin' to cut me open hidin' in here, doncha?" Rachel stood and gave him a blank look as she rubbed her sore wrist. "Or you'll poison me if I eat you!"

"That doesn't even make sense," she protested, following him over to the bed. Rather than sit with him, she knelt on the floor before his feet. Looking up at him, she clasped her hands like a prayer. "It's alright to eat me. That's why I came out to these woods. I deserve it, so…"

"What the fuck," he growled, scooting back from the eerie girl. "Go back home, kid. If you wanna die so bad, go drown yourself or somethin'!" The disgust in his expression was evident.

"I need to submit to God's judgment," she whispered. "I can't take things into my own hands. Besides… I can't go back. No one is left in the village."

The wolf froze. His eyes narrowed. Where before they had shone with disgust and revulsion, they were beginning to shine with another emotion. Rachel could swear that now he looked angry. She tilted her face just slightly in curiosity, a strand of white-gold hair falling between her eyes. Before she could ask, however, his clawed and bandaged hand shot out and grabbed her face. It covered her mouth, latching onto her jaw from the front. Rachel's eyes widened and she let out a small squeak as his grip tightened. He stood from the bed and she then found herself being dragged to her feet by her face.

"Don't lie to me, kid," he growled. "There's no way that town is empty."

"I'm not… I'm not lying to you…"

Her voice was muffled under his hand, but her words were understandable enough. Feebly, she tried to pull his hand away, but the difference in their strength was apparent. Even though he wasn't actually hurting her, his grip was still like an iron vise. At this point, his outstretched arm was even supporting her entire weight; he had lifted her high enough for her toes to just graze the floor.

Then, just as suddenly, he put her down.

"If you're lyin' to me, I'll gut you," he ground out, stepping up to her. Rachel gingerly rubbed her jaw while he towered over her again. It was hard not to be scared of him, but she steeled herself once again.

"So if I tell a lie, you'll kill me?"

"Don't go gettin' any ideas, you little weirdo," he grumbled. "I still don't believe you. So I'm goin' to check the town right now."

"Oh… Goodbye, then."

"Whaddaya mean 'goodbye'?" He passed her while she looked on, stunned silent. Without warning, his hand shot back towards her, clutching her cloak where it attached under her chin. Rachel gasped as her feet began to slide against the floor, being drug along behind the huge wolf.

"You're comin' with me."

"Wh-Why?" It was really all she could stammer out. If he wasn't going to eat her, and he was obviously repulsed by her, why would he want her to come along?

"Isn't it obvious?" he asked, his voice now more casual than really angry.

"No?"

"If the town is still there, I'm gonna kill you for lyin' to me," he explained with a grin. "And if it's not, I'll need some food supplies for the winter."

"I don't know where everyone kept their stores," she murmured, puzzled. It wasn't as if there was much to eat back at her house, either. Did this wolf even eat anything other than people? That might explain why he was so adamant about searching the town.

"I mean you," he clarified. "You can be my emergency rations." Rachel's eyes widened with hope. Either way, he was going to kill her. It just meant he had to ensure his own survival first.

"Ah," she replied, her voice dull. She gathered her wits enough to catch her footing and keep up with him as they left the doctor's room. Since she was walking on her own now, he let her go. Without missing a beat, they crossed the hallway and made their way to the front room. The wolf's footsteps were quick and purposeful, but Rachel was having more trouble following along. Even though her eyes had adjusted to the loss of the candle, she still couldn't see as well in low light as he obviously could. As soon as they entered the front room, she made a beeline for the tinder box. They could always find another candle.

"What's that?" the wolf asked suspiciously. Rachel looked at him, hand outstretched to take the silver box.

"The Doctor's tinder box," she replied simply. "I can light another cand-" She was interrupted by the wolf's hand on her wrist. It didn't hurt this time, but she also knew she wouldn't be able to move her hand and pick up the box. His intention was clear.

"We don't need that," he explained. "I have good night vision."

"But… I don't," Rachel protested as he began dragging her towards the door by her wrist. He didn't need to explain it to her: she didn't need to see. She just needed to follow him now. When they came to the door, rather than lift the bar off, he simply drew back a leg and kicked it right in the middle. The otherwise strong wood splintered and exploded outwards from the force of his kick.

"You just kicked the door down," she stated, voice full of quiet awe. "Why didn't you…" She could see a smile spread across his face, baring his fangs. It wasn't threatening this time, not exactly. Rather, he seemed amused.

"That's no fun!" the wolf barked. "Why even chase you if you don't make it fun?" His tail wagged just a little and Rachel realized just how close wolves could be to dogs. He pulled her down the stairs and onto the dirt trail leading out into the main road going back to town. The path leading out onto the dirt road was lined on either side by the thick forest. Very little light made it through, but Rachel's eyes had adjusted to the low light well enough to see the ground.

As they reached the wider dirt road leading back into town, the wolf finally released her hand. He looked back over his shoulder at her as she drew up even with his shoulder.

"Hey, little red," he grumbled. "You got a name?" Rachel lifted her face to look at him, moonlight lighting her features.

"Rachel," she answered plainly. "Rachel Gardener." The wolf's left ear twitched as he absorbed this information.

"So… Ray." Well, close enough.

"What about you?" His face was clearer now in the moonlight, and although it was covered in bandages, Rachel could see that he was fairly handsome for a wolf.

"Call me Zack," he replied before turning away to look down the road. The houses that made up the village were visible a ways down the road, dark and foreboding. No light was lit in the windows and no sounds could be heard except those of a few rustling leaves blowing across the dusty road. The two awkward companions, the big bad wolf and the girl in the red hood, began moving towards the darkened town.