I couldn't stand how crappy this story was, so I rewrote it! Yay!

Chapter 1

This is the story of a girl named Anastasie Hood, but you would know her as Little Red Riding Hood, because of the bright scarlet colored cloak she wore. She was born January 3, 1778 in a log cabin on the edge of the werewolf territory that was named Territoire Loup-Garou. Her home was very close to a werewolf tribe known as the Argentum Lunae Lecem, or the "Silver Moonlight." Her father and the other villagers hated the werewolves, and the werewolves felt the same about the villagers. The villagers grew wolf's bane to ward off and kill werewolves. In turn, the werewolves attacked anyone who entered the woods, except for two people: Luna, Red's mother, and Red herself. Probably because Faolan.

One day, Luna was sent to her mother's cabin deep in the woods. She carried a basket of monthly provisions for her grandmother and extra clothes. Her grandmother could not leave her cabin because she was sick and could not defend herself, so Luna was going to stay with her until she recovered. Luna was expected to be back in a month at most. It has been 13 weeks and five days since she left.

"Father?" Red whispered. It was early in the morning, barely past dawn.

"Yes, Red?" A broken, cracked voice croaked from the shadows in the corner of the room after a moment's pause.

"I'm going into the woods to find Mother."

"Red-" The same voice started, but was hastily interrupted.

"Maybe she's not dead. Maybe… Maybe Grandmother was more ill than we thought. What if Mother got sick, and Grandmother made her stay until she got better! You can't just give up on her like this! She's your wife! Don't you care?" Red desperately exclaimed.

For the longest time, he didn't respond until finally, "Fine. If you really want to go, you can. Take your bow and make sure your quiver is full. Keep your knives tucked in your boots. Leave once the sun is fully risen and do not stray from the path."

Red smiled. "Yes, Father" she responded, a note of victory evident in her voice.

Red grabbed her scarlet cloak, her bow and the quiver full of ivory arrows dipped in wolf's bane powder, despite her protests. She snatched her worn brown satchel off its hook and the basket she had packed for her grandmother (her father never wins arguments).

"That is, IF you see her. IF she's not dead and Father isn't right. Which he usually is, and yet he never wins arguments against me or mom. IF-" Red violently shook her head, as if to chase the thoughts out.

"Father is not right. He can't be. Father is wrong, Father is wrong, Father is wrong, there's a first time for everything…" she repeated like in an almost trancelike way. Eventually, Red calmed down and relaxed. As she tugged on her last boot, she turned around to give their cabin one last look.

"Last look?" she thought to herself. "It's not a last look. I'll be back by the end of the week."

Despite the fact, she spent much more time standing in the doorway and simply drinking in the small details of the cabin than she would've if she were just going to visit Marius or Lea. The cabin was very small, with a dining room that was large enough to fit a table barely big enough for three people, two chairs, a stool, one spice cabinet and a small stove for making soup and baking breads and cooking the meats that hung in the attic. It had a small "bedroom" that she shared with her mother and father. It was really a small room with three small bedrolls, a dresser, and a cracked mirror. Instead of a door, there was a tattered blanket. Next to the "door" there was a creaky old ladder that lead into the tiny attic were her mother and Red hung vegetables, spices, herbs, and meat to dry and cook later. Directly behind the house there was the outhouse, the stable for their goat and chickens, and the small shack for Red's wolf she found behind their house.

Red whistled softly, "Faolan!" Red's wolf comes padding up to her and nuzzles her hand. Faolan is a little speckled silvery grey wolf with icy blue eyes. Faolan was the most 'realistic' name choice, according to Red's mother, considering Faolan actually means 'little wolf'. Faolan only reaches up to Red's chest and is about six feet long, however, Faolan's species is usually the six or seven feet tall, and Faolan is only four feet tall.

Faolan always seems to know exactly what Red needs or is going to do, so she turns and lets out a short bark to acknowledge Red's father, and then pads towards the entrance of the forest. Red feels a sudden urge to skip towards the forest, but considering the fact that she is 16, she settles for a goofy grin and walks quickly to catch up with Faolan, who is waiting for her.

The moment Red enters the forest, everything changes. The shadows seem larger, but in a way that is closer to comforting or soft. The smell of crushed pine needles and sage hangs thickly in the air, so thickly you could cut it with a knife. It smells sweet, yet not overpowering, oddly enough. Sunlight slices through the canopy wherever it can get through in a valiant attempt to reach the light-starved plants on the forest floor. Or, you'd think they were light starved, but the plants on the forest floor are all ferns and other grasses and mushrooms. The flowers grow up on trees and branches near the canopy. The farther and harder you look, the more surprising bursts of color you can see. Light blues, lavenders, sunset orange, maroon, rose, magenta, raven purple, midnight blue, and every other color you could imagine. Everyone else sees it as a place devoid of life, just shadows and werewolves, but in reality, this forest practically glows.

Red eagerly peered into the silky shadows and was greeted by a pair of vibrant, pulsing emerald eyes. Different shades of greens came from the silver ring around the pupil until they disappeared at the edge of the iris. Forest green, lime, evergreen, sea green, any shade of green imaginable.

Red blinked, "Hi," She blurted before truly thinking about how smart this really was.

"Hi." A tall boy slipped out of the shadows. He was about six inches taller than Red, around 5'11" and had dark chocolate hair that flopped down into his face, along with a scattering of freckles all over his forehead, cheeks and nose. He was pale, but not terribly so, and when he smiled, you could see four sharp canine teeth. Extra sharp canine teeth... This could be bad.

"Are you a werewolf?" Red blurted (again...!), then blushed a smacked a hand over her mouth. "Sorry, sorry!" she exclaimed, after seeing his look of surprise. " 'Spose I didn't think that one through…" Much like everything else today.
"It's fine, its just most people can't tell at a glance. Werewolves can, though…." He trailed off, eyeing her pensively.
"I'm not a werewolf! I mean, I think I'd know if I were a werewolf!" Red said indignantly. "…Wouldn't I know?" she added a little uncertainly.

"Well, it depends. Some werewolves don't change until they're 18. Some change when they're young. The unlucky ones change less than an hour after they're birth. The parents of the baby usually think the wolf ate their kid somehow and kill the wolf. If a werewolf dies in wolf shape, they shift back into their human shape directly after they're dead. It drives most parents insane with guilt and fear of their spouse being a werewolf- or even worse, them being a werewolf," he states nonchalantly, as if parents killing their own -albeit werewolf- kids is perfectly normal.
Red stares at him.

"Anyways, I'm Zacharie Wolfe. I thought you were a werewolf because of your eyes," he said with a grin.

"Oh," Red said in a small voice. She continued, "Do humans ever have eyes like mine?"
His smile got bigger, "Nope. That means either your father or mother is a werewolf, and you inherited the werewolf genes from them."

She frowned slightly and cocked her head, "How could a werewolf live with villagers without us noticing?"

"We do it all the time. We control the change. We shift whenever we want to, and some of us can even reincarnate, but we like people to think we only change on the full moon- and that, you know, some of us can't die. Anyways, you never told me your name."
"Anastasie Hood. Everyone calls me Red or Riding Hood."

...Y'know, it's not as bad as it was before. Really- it's not.

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~Songbook12