The Wolf was away for two hours, finally coming back with his knapsack full of metal canisters of milk, a sealed bowl of butter, and twenty or so eggs. Also in the sack was a freshly killed goose, which the Wolf was setting atop the table when Red came in.

Red froze, stared, and then complained, "More meat?"

"It's mine. You don't have to do anything to it… I got the cake stuff. Make them." The Wolf held out the satchel, eyes glinting eagerly.


It took Red an hour to make two medium-sized cakes. The Wolf had enough sugar laying around in the cupboards, so Red added a nice layer of white, sugary frosting atop.

The Wolf stole one of the cakes, cut a quarter off for Red, and then devoured the rest voraciously. After he had eaten, he lay back in his chair, drumming his fingers against his stomach as he thought about something. Finally, he asked, "Do you have any siblings?"

Red glanced uneasily at him. "No… Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering…" The Wolf didn't turn his eyes away from the ceiling as he toyed with one of the staples lining his cut.

Red watched him for a few seconds more, not sure, before resuming her eating.

"I need to make you a new chair." Finally commented the Wolf, glancing down to see her seated on the ground, as she usually was.

"You don't have to."

The Wolf nodded, "You're right, I don't have to."

Red glared at him, furious at his easily distracted bluntness.

"What?"

"That was just mean." Growled Red.

"What was?" The Wolf licked some drying icing off of the fur edging his mouth before sneezing violently and standing.

"You offered and then forgot about it just as quick."

"You said you didn't want it."

Red turned angry eyes to the floor.

"... I'm going to take the other cake, alright?" The Wolf lifted up the cake, careful not to make it fall from its plate.

"…Fine."

"And don't be mad… You don't eat when you're mad. If you don't eat, you'll be no kind of morsel I'd want to eat."

"So, if I starve myself, you wouldn't eat me?" Red put down her piece of cake.

"No, I'd still eat you, it's just you wouldn't be as filling." The Wolf smiled at her before scurrying out of the room.


In the middle of the night, Red woke up, thirsty, and stumbled out of her room towards the kitchen. When she entered, she stopped, blinked at the sight of the Wolf, and then staggered to the counter. Finding a glass, she poured some water from the pitcher, drank it down, and then turned, her eyes watering with weariness.

As she passed the Wolf, she paused to glance over him. He was sleeping on the chair, a half-dissected goose in front of him. Both of his clawed hands rested on his belly, as did his feet on the table. His tail wagged slowly in a dream.

Head tilted back, mouth lolling open to expose yellowed teeth and send out rank breath, the Wolf snored in his sleep, his grunts interrupting the long growls. As Red started to stumble back for the door, he snorted before turning in the chair, looping his arm around the chair's back, and sniffled back to sleep.

Red froze before slowly backing up, glancing him over, and reaching forward. Her hand brushed his pants before she made her way to his pocket. She gently dug her fingers in, felt the hard metal of the key ring. She tugged it out.

The Wolf snorted, wrenched to the side, and then hung his head down to the side, snoring softly once more.

Weariness gone, Red smiled broadly as she grabbed the keys to keep them from jingling on the ring. Creeping out of the kitchen and down the hall, she came to the locked door, unlocked it, and snuck through. She did not bother to lock the door.

She instantly turned to the right, knowing the disgusting dead end to the left. She scurried along, came to a door in the left wall. Curious, frantic, she tried it.

It opened up to stairs that led down. Red sighed, only having discovered the basement, turned, was about to continue, when she heard a dull whimper from below. She froze, glanced back, and then started down the steps, nosy.

There were seventeen steps in all, she counted, that leveled off to a cold, stone floor. She glanced around, searching for whatever made the noise, and saw the door, cracked open slightly, allowing a dull glimmer of light to peer through. She crept to it, opened it slowly.

The next moment, she froze and stared in amazement.

The dusty white carpet was scattered with little toys, most soft cloth ones. The walls, painted a garish bluish-gray, was peeling slightly. A misshapen chair, one of the legs obviously having been broken in the past, sat in the corner, being used as a small shelf for little, torn-up books. Across the room was a small window where dark light filtered in, a gift from the stars and moon outside. The smell of slight rot shoved up Red's nose, making her snort in disgust.

The covers of the little bed in the farthest corner rustled, making Red squeak in surprise. A small wolf, a soft blondish-gray-white, sat up, glanced around with large black eyes. "Papa?" He held out his small paws, felt at the air.

Red stared, blinking, as she surveyed the little wolf. His coat was rough and mangy, his frame skinny and underfed. His hands held a small tremor.

"Papa…? I finished my birthday present…" sniffled the small wolf, moisture welling up in his eyes as he felt around for the small plate Red had place the second cake upon. Holding it up, he whispered, "Will you please read me a story…? It's been so long that you've read me a story…"

Red slowly stepped forward, noticing the little wolf's blank eyes stare off in her left as his ears twitched as they tried to pinpoint the sound of her footsteps. Glancing in her general direction, the child smiled softly and rasped, trying to restrain a dry sob, "Papa…?"

Red took the plate, watched the little wolf pup relax. Snuggling back down into his covers, the little wolf whispered, "… Story?"

Gulping, Red licked her dry lips and said softly, "What's your name?"

The little wolf stiffened, his blind eyes shivering with surprise. Sitting back up, he found the little wolf toy, the one Red had fixed only a few days before, and whispered fearfully, "Who's there?"

Red took a deep breath, wondering what the heck she was doing, "Um… I'm… I'm…"

The little wolf listened to her voice before asking in wonder, "Are you a girl?" He said the word 'girl' as one would say the name of a mythical creature, layered with disbelieving awe.

"Yes."

The little wolf shivered with pleasure as he smiled toothily. He had sharp, pearly white teeth. "Did God send you?"

Surprised, Red stared at him before squeaking, "What?"

"Before she went away, Momma told me that God sent girls with wings if you were a good boy…" said the little wolf eagerly, blinking rapidly, "And if they touched you, you'd get all better!" He leaned forward.

Red saw his tail wag weakly underneath the covers. Relaxing, she sighed, "Well… I can't say that I'm one of those… Are you sick?"

The little wolf ignored her question, reached out, and whimpered, "Will you let me touch you?"

Slowly, Red neared the bed, and the small paws found her arm. Stilling, the wolf blinked as he felt the skin, intent of the texture, the little hairs that brushed against his. Red shivered inadvertently as she sensed his weakness, his shuddering, deteriorating muscles.

Finally, the little wolf let go. He said softly, "Thank you…"

"You're welcome…" Red sat on the edge of the bed, seeing the wolf's fur poof up as he felt the already broken mattress tilt towards her.

Sniffling, he found her hand, hugged it to his chest, "So… What's it like in heaven?"

"I'm not from heaven."

"Where are you from then?" said the little wolf, obviously disappointed.

Red thought about this before saying, "Outside."

The little wolf mused over this for a moment before letting go of her hand, snuggling under his covers till only his snout showed, and whispering, "Why are you in here then?"

"… Your father… kind of…"

"He's been a bad papa again, hasn't he?" asked the little wolf solemnly again, his head disappearing under the blanket.

"Yes." Sighed Red.

Shuddering, the little wolf reappeared, the lopsided patchwork wolf toy in his dull claws. He held it up, "This is Bunny."

"… But it's a wolf."

"But he lives with the bunnies." Defended the little wolf, hugging his toy, "He lives with them in the forest and he doesn't eat them, 'cause I had a bunny as a pet once and they're my friends too!"

"How old are you?" Red asked, curious, smiling. This wolf was innocent and cute.

The wolf dropped his toy, held out his fingers, and counted off seven before holding it up proudly. "This much! Papa taught me how to count to all my birthdays! Oh, and he brought me a yummy cake thing today and sang a happy birthday to me!" He flopped back onto his pillows, nearly melting with happiness. "And now I have another birthday present! I have a girl!" He clapped his hand excitedly.

Red laughed, her eyes edging to the window. How tantalizing did the stars and moon look at the moment! She could afford to spend time with this little wolf, however… Just a few minutes more, perhaps.

"Are you going to stay for long?" asked the little wolf, as if he had sensed her eagerness to leave.

"…Probably not."

"Why not?"

"'Cause I need to get away from your father."

"… Is he going to eat you like the other girls? He's always saying that girls are yummy… I would never eat a girl!" The little wolf placed a hand against his chest, affronted by the very thought before adding, "I don't think I could swallow one of you down anyways."

Red grimaced. "I hope that never changes."

"I know… But papa likes little girls… And children too. He says they're easy to capture and eat… But I'll eat all the chickens and geese and-"

"Well, thank you." Muttered Red, standing up.

Hearing the shuffle of cloth, the little wolf sat up and squeaked, "You're going to go?"

"I have to get out of the house, go through the woods, which I'm sure is where we are, and then get back to town, all before your father can wake up and come after me."

"Ah… But do you have to leave now…?" The wolf found her arm, pulled himself to the side of the bed, and put a clawed hand onto her shoulder. "I haven't talked to anyone for such a long time… Papa doesn't talk that much…"

"But I really have to go."

"… Can I come then…? I just need my crutches and you as a guide? Just till the front door or something?"

"Fine… Where are your crutches?" asked Red, glancing about.

"Under the bed."

Red bent, reached under the bed, found the crutches, and stood before freezing. The wolf had shoved down his covers, exposing his legs.

They turned small and shriveled from where they sprouted out of his shorts. The fur did nothing to hide the small, lacy veins that throbbed under the skin exposed between the patches of sickly fur. Moaning, he pulled his legs up with his hands, felt for the edge of the bed, and then let them drape over. He smiled, held out his hands, "Crutches?"

As Red handed them to him, she asked with a shiver, "What happened to your legs?"

"… I… don't know… I just got sick one day and my legs started to hurt a lot. I can still use them, it's just that I need some help." The pup grasped his crutches, planted them in the carpet, and then struggled up. When Red grabbed his shoulder, helped him balance, he muttered, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

With a slight hobble, the little wolf used his crutches to limp forward. "Tell me if I'm going to crash into something."

"Wait! You're going to hit the wall!" Red grabbed him back.

"Oh, thank you." The wolf turned to her and smiled somewhere off to her right.

Red giggled before asking, "What's your name?"

"Peter."

"Mine's Marie, but you can call me Red."

"I like your name." commented Peter happily.


It took an excruciatingly long time for Peter to hobble up the stairs. He fell to his knees several times, his legs weak with inexperience.

When they had finally reached the top of the stairs, Red led the stumbling Peter down the hall. They finally found the front door after five minutes of passing it several times, and, when Red tried to unlock it, she found with dismay that there was no key to the door.

"How does your father get out?" she asked helplessly, staring up at the door as Peter sat down behind her, shivering from overexertion.

"Don't know… Are you hungry? I'm hungry…" Peter rubbed at his stomach.

"No." Red snorted, angry that the door would not open for her.

"Are you… mad at me?" whispered Peter, staring in the direction of her voice as he fidgeted with his fingers.

"No, of course not!" Turning, Red patted him on the head, trying to rid herself of the anger that throbbed at her head now that her only plan to escape had been thwarted.

Peter moaned, pushed his head up against the caressing hand, "Ooh… That feels good… Keep doing it…"

For the next five minutes, Red petted Peter, moving steadily down from the wolf's head to his chest and finally to his stomach.

Groaning with pleasure, Peter writhed on his back, his legs making involuntary, quirky jerks. He mumbled happily as she finally withdrew her fingers, "Oh… That was nice…" He rolled to his side, found her knee, and hugged it awkwardly as he yawned. "I'm sleepy…"

Red ran his fingers through one of the mangy patches of hair. "Well… I guess I'm stuck here with you… You want me to help you back down to your room?"

"…No… I'm fine…" Peter sniffled at her knee, licked her skin, and then wagged his tail weakly, "Will you just stay here till I fall asleep? Or tell me a story…?"

Red smiled, bent, and blew on his nose, "Of course."


As soon as Peter fell asleep on the dusty rug in front of the main entrance, Red tiptoed back into the other half of the house, locked the door in between, snuck back to the Wolf, and managed to slip the keys back into his pocket without waking him. Exhausted, she went back to her room and fell asleep.