Little Red gulped as she fingered her bow. "Mother." She whispered into the darkness.
"Shhh quiet young one." Her Father said gently. But his face, twisted in agony, said it all. He had caught it, like a wild flame that leaped with great anger from town to town.
"Mother." Her strangled cry came in a gasp as she knelt down to cry.
"You're Mother is gone." Her father said gently. He picked up the basket and turned it in his hands, "Little Red I need your help." He tried to hold her in his strong arms but the pores and the risk of spreading held him back like a whip. "You need to go to Grandma's house do you hear me?"
"I don't know where she is." She mumbled, holding back her tears, threatening to spill over.
"She's down the path. Listen to me. Here's your cape and your flowers. Don't talk to any witches. Don't go to the baker. And don't go to the wolves. I don't want thy to die." He sighed and opened the door. A group of rats scurried by, trying their best to avoid the light.
"Father…-"
Her Father handed her the basket with the little rolls and cakes she adored and shoved her a bit, forgetting about his horrid condition. "Go…now!"
Little Red nodded. She ran up the cobblestone path, falling and getting up again.
"Goodbye little Red." Her Father said into the dark night before he clutched his heart, and limped back into to the little stone house.