Once upon a time, there was a Godly valley with mountains that could touch the sky and trees that cast long shadows. The people who live in the small mountain town are hardworking and happy, so long as they never stray into the forest where the wolves lurk in the darkness. Adults brave the trees in groups to hunt the vicious pack as they have for decades, the conflict is deep with no sign of victory for either side. But wolves are not the only threat, nor the village's only secret - and the link connecting them is a simple cloak of Red ...

Every night, from the highest peak of the uninhabited mountains, a single Wolf howls to the good folk of the valley – as a warning, as a message, and as a reminder of what they did:
"Beware, beware, the Path where the Witch once stood. Beware, beware, of the Wolf in the Wood."

The Hunter knew that the key to success was patience. By being paitent he could stand a step ahead of any prey. Therefore, his long wait out in the wilderness was not aggravating nor unusual, but promising. He found the signs of game's recent travels, all manner of creatures moved in the early spring looking for new food and defrosted water, he had learnt the motions of the forest well and each year they repeated the motions like the sun across the sky.

Stepping near soundlessly, he took a few seemingly random turns around the forest undergrowth before approaching a pool, he readied a strategic position nearby on a hunch that this would attract something worthwhile.

The sun shone heavenly and the sky was clear, the only reprieve was the shade of the canopy and the cold just-spring forest pool the Hunter stood downwind from. He crouched behind thickets and low cover and held the musket cocked and ready should something cross his path. Meanwhile, he examined the area and got comfortable for his wait. The forest creatures would come, this was the biggest pool for several miles and the banks were covered in animal treads both new and old.

He could afford to wait. Patience was key for a successful hunt, paitence kept the Hunter one step ahead.

By the time midday had come, at last, his patience had paid off. A doe, plump and bright-eyed stepped silently into view. She melted out of the forest as if she had merely been a shadow cast by the slow moving sun, her tread careful and her ears upright and alert.

The Hunter slowly rose from his crouched position when he spotted her, he examined her carefully before deciding that she was worthy prey, and half concealed himself behind the tree beside him. He aimed with the same slowness and rested his finger on the trigger and waited for the perfect shot, one wrong move and not only this prey but all in the surrounding area would flee from the noise.

The doe stepped delicately over to the pool, her large ears moving in every direction to catch wind of potential dangers approaching. But the Hunter was already here, one step ahead of her, and she had no prayer of hearing his practiced grace.

She lowered her head to sniff at the pool then turned and bleated once behind her just as the Hunter's fingertip touched the trigger.

A foal skittered out of the trees to its Mother's side and the Hunter hesitated. The Mother and young exchanged a small nuzzle before drinking, the Mother on constant alert and always had one eye open to danger.

Sighing inaudibly, the Hunter lowered his musket and rested the stock on the ground, damn him and his stupid sympathy.

A small smile pulled at his lips as he watched the Mother and Baby pair quench their thirst and exchange unconscious affection, the foal stepping closer and the Mother nibbling at its ears attentively. The youngster danced around her on skinny legs before she called for the end of their drink and they disappeared back into the trees like the phantoms they were meant to be leaving only the Hunter still hidden behind them.

Despite several wasted hours, he couldn't find it in his heart to be too disappointed or mad at himself, the young deer would grow until fully independent and maybe one day it would also have a foal of its own. He knew that without the Mother it would never get that far – for the future of the forest, and because he knew the pain of being without family, he let them both go.

Empty handed but warm inside he emptied his musket of bullets and packed up.

When they were long gone, the Hunter waiting until his movement would no disturb the delicate balance of nature around him, the Hunter stepped over the thickets from his hiding place, then strode over to the stream with his bag and musket slung over his shoulder.

As he drank from his water skin he admired the reflection of the pool and considered his luck for today; he had previously taken down several rabbits, each one a little tough but with the new spring that was hardly a surprise. Rabbits were in a different class than deer, once the grass was growing there would be too many rabbits to count let alone hunt, patience was key and it was too early in the year for any meaningful catches, not enough time had passed for the step ahead that he needed for a good catch. Yet he had enough provisions for a time, he wasn't concerned.

He turned in another seemingly random direction and began a confident walk through the trees, his boots crunched the leaves and twigs and earth, he was loud and unnatural in the forest unlike the doe, but he was the only man who held no fear of their murky world. He knew the woods better than he knew the Lord's prayer, unlike his peers and fellow villagers.

Where they saw a source of mystery and evil, he saw a place of life. The village had no qualms exploiting its resources, his thoughts turned lightly bitter; they relied on it, cursed it, trained their whole lives to earn themselves better skill to hunt, but, still, there was never a positive word said about the forest.

The Hunter felt more peaceful here than in the Church, he could breathe and relax and find focus here. The peace that had him mistrusted flowed through his body and his eyes half closed almost in a trance as he stepped, feet barely feeling the earth.

Behind him, a soft noise rustled in the environment. The Hunter paused and listened. No birds were singing, nor any gusts of wind, plus he was still downwind from any creature so he concluded he merely had a curious follower. Something had seen him and decided his presence was worth investigating, it had used its eyes not it's nose, and combined with the sudden lack of wildlife- which could have been the Hunter's doing as much as his stalker's – the follower was a predator.

But still, the Hunter felt no fear. It was worth being wary and alert but since it had revealed itself with that noise it was unlikely to attack. Hunters who blew their cover early and alerted their targets always struggled with any initiated assault, most knew just to give up. Nevertheless, he checked that his hunting knife was still in its sheath before he started walking again.

He knew better than to look back – nothing was there, he had learnt well over his years trekking this untamed land that you only saw a creature if you were lucky, patient or if it was on their terms. Experience had taught him that many creatures were cautious and that this particular presence was an elusive one.

He didn't bother to look. Besides, he was not the hunting force anymore, this presence had the upper hand now.

Since the beginning, he had been plagued by the eyes of this presence, just out of sight in these trees, whenever he followed it would flee, and if he looked too hard, it would slip away. Other Hunters had noticed the attention he brought and assumed him cursed, but it never interfered with him, even when he was alone. He was content to let it go about its business if it was fine to leave him too. He imagined it was some kind of truce they had weaved between them, some odd kind of trust. When he gained enough experience and skill to hunt independently without a tutor, the presence had stuck to him like a shadow.

He remembered Matron telling him that he had always had a troubling fascination and pull towards the forest and the forest to him … if only he could remember. In a way, it was comforting to know that some things never changed.

The presence had stopped following him, the Hunter felt the usual swell of disappointment and relief. For as much as he was curious, he was not a fool, no creature on this Earth was happy to be followed and it was a weight off of his shoulders when he was left to his own devices once again though he was as clueless as ever.

The disappearance of his unseen companion meant he was nearing the village. He lowered his head slightly and pulled his hood up past his head to cover his sable hair – the bright red colour would ensure he wasn't shot by accident, all Hunters wore bright scarfs, cloaks or coats to protect themselves from friendly fire and he was no different. Animals didn't bother with bright colours, they listened to noise and sensed predators by scent; the colours helped humans spot humans, nothing more.

Tolling bells rang in the air and the Hunter knew he'd crossed the hidden barrier that marked the edge of man's land and the wild forest. His steps became heavier and his shoulders curved just slightly as he left the serenity of nature for the troubles of men.

He saw the trees thinning before he saw the village. It hadn't changed in many years, there were still several farms, a small flock of livestock, huts and houses of many sizes containing varying sizes of families and there was still the little parish church that somehow still fit everyone inside it.

The only change to the local area in the past ten years was a community storage shed for the increasingly harsher winters, Father Hojo asked for donations of food and Hunters were obliged to contribute. The project, inspired by the story of Joseph, had been a success. It had saved lives and was a popular source of comfort for the village.

The red-clad Hunter stepped onto the small paths heading into the village and pulled his hood back. Few farmers paused their work to greet him, either too busy labouring or choosing not to speak up, but Zell and Irvine did.

Zell raised his hand high and hollered across the field "Hey! Squall!" his arm waved madly and his balance following suit.

The Hunter raised his hand to wave back but quickly dropped it when his foster brothers left their work to approach him, they left their tools plowed into the cold soil and Irvine fixed his hat as they stumbled across the uneven farmland. The Hunter greeted them in his usual way and hoped they wouldn't keep him long, he had to skin these rabbits. "It's Leon. How are you? Working hard?"

Zell had grown from his childish height but had not outgrown his bright smiles and endless energy, though Leon had since grown taller than him he had not stopped his older brother attitude of constantly checking up on him. But, on a fonder note, he had also never stopped supporting Leon either. His face now held a tattoo, something he'd gotten on a visit to a big city, and one he showed off with pride despite the eyebrows it raised – Matron had forbiddon him from travelling there again.

"Ah, you know, just getting the soil suitable for planting, the usual." Zell leaned against a barrel of grain and crossed his arms. "I tried to recruit you this morning to help out, but you were already gone," he hadn't stopped grinning so Leon knew that he wasn't blamed for his absence – he was a Hunter and had more business in the woods than in a field.

But Leon still adjusted his pack uncertainly, trying to guess if his absence had been a true bother "Sorry."

At once Zell waved his hands dismissively "Don't worry about it, it's fine. I just thought you'd be in but you're out at the crack of dawn, as usual, do you ever take a day off?" he sighed.

Irvine nudged the blond with his relaxed smile "Give the Mighty Hunter a break," he teased them both "He's had so much work today dragging back his catch for the day," he looked at the pack that revealed only the weight of the small rabbits Leon had found and kept smiling. "No time for hard work with all his bounty."

Leon glanced at the minuscule weight, though better than nothing it was hardly impressive, but he knew that the other Hunters wouldn't even have his luck today – he felt no joy at the thought, the comparison spelled problems that tired him out.

He turned from his inner thoughts to say "There's nothing out there worth catching, spring's only just arrived, there's no food for the prey and no real prey for the predators. Give it a few more weeks."

Humming in understanding Zell put an arm around his shoulders "It's fine, Squall, we know you're the best Hunter here, bet you Seifer won't even get the squirrels you got."

Leon rubbed at his nose "It's Leon, and they're rabbits."

Irvine watched with an increasing degree of somberness "Sq-Leon." At the sound of his preferred name Leon looked up in surprise, Irvine was looking wary "If there wasn't anything worth catching why were you out there?"

Leon tensed, his brother's reluctant and sad attitude making sense to him now. You don't want to ask me that, you don't want to hear it.

"Bet he just wanted to try his luck!"

Irvine scowled at Zell "I wasn't asking you." The blond looked sharply snubbed and went silent. With his attention back to Leon, Irvine asked again "Why do you keep going out there?"

Leon's eyes rested on the floor. He considered his answer for a few moments as the wind tugged at his cloak, he watched the corner of it flap back the way he had come like the grab of a desperate hand. Breathing deeply, he finally spoke, "It's peaceful." It wasn't an answer and he knew it, but Irvine had heard all his excuses enough to realise the true reason and Leon expected the massive sigh of disappointment and concern.

"I see." Irvine adjusted his hat over his auburn hair and abruptly changed the subject. "Seifer was looking for you, Genesis wants to start another Hunt before the wolves kill off all the good game," he sniffed before a hint of his usual smile appeared on his face, "Maybe they're why your luck isn't it's usual."

Leon smirked just slightly "It's skill and you know it."

Irvine laughed and patted his shoulder, genuine warmth and affection shining out of his cornflower eyes "That I do, Leon. Come on Zell, this field won't till itself."

Zell punched Leon's shoulder affectionately "If you're not busy come help us out, okay?" he turned before Leon could give his answer and strode across the dense mud and fertile soil after his older foster brother. Leon watched them go with a small fond smile he rarely let anyone see and continued on to his home.

No one else spoke to him as he approached the first house on the path, the one closest to the trees with only the fields barring the way like a moat or barrier. Thoroughly tilled and tamed land standing defiantly against the silent wilderness like barracks of soldiers while the forest merely whispered in unknown words and many voices. While no one spoke to him, he had received a few tired nods from workers too busy in their own affairs to try and bolster gossip and rumour.

His house was little more than a hut, a single room in which every activity in the house could be conducted. There was a firepit with a small stone hearth and bed and small table low enough to be sat at without chairs. There were several containers, boxes and barrels and a pack or two, and finally a pile of tools hanging on a wall.

Leon stepped inside and hung up his musket and cape, smoothing out the wrinkles in the fabric absently and frowning when he found a small hole in the hood. He traded his hunting tools for a skinners knife and a bowl and sat by the entrance to his little house to enjoy the day.

Skinning wasn't too pleasant to the eye or to touch but practice had taken away the revolution of slicing up such beautiful coats and pulling out bones. Working steadily, Leon stripped the small amounts of fat from the skin and took out the meat for salting. He placed the morsels in the bowl and reached for the next rabbit.

As he did so, a shadow fell across his doorway and it only took a glance at the durable leather boots standing invading close to his own to identify who it was.

"Seifer," he sighed, already tired of the conversation that hadn't even started yet.

"Leon." The reply was clipped and inflated with authority he had no right or power to wield "Genesis is assembling a hunt tomorrow, and for some reason he wants you."

Leon let the disgusted tone roll off his back like water off a duck's feathers and skillfully gutted the carcass he'd made from the rabbit as if it needed to be said he offered usual refusal in the form of: "I'm busy."

Seifer snorted "Doing what? Keeping house? I can see why you'd need to constantly work on it to make it suitable for civil company." His ugly words were expected and Leon didn't even grace him with a glance or twitch at the insult to his living conditions.

He had no need to defend how he lived, though his house was one of the smallest it suited him, he was a bachelor like many who had huts this size. They were scattered about the village intending to be storage sheds at first, or so the gossip said, but when housing became a problem they found a different use. It was nothing grand like the two room house Seifer owned with its own garden attached at the back, a garden that held hanging equipment to both drain and display his kills as a Hunter, it was often deserted.

Leon moved the cut meat out of sight of Seifer, well aware of his temper and corresponding violence, and tried to get him to leave, "You have my answer, is there anything else you want?" he looked up at last.

Seifer was tall too, just taller than Leon and he had grown and ego to match.. Like Leon, he had persued the career of a Hunter and he was fairely good at his role though he, like many, were constantly jealous of Leon and his skill. But their similarities ended almost where they began.

His hair was meticulously short and neat, skin tanned and hands roughened from work and hard learned talents a lot like Leon's. Seifer's eyes flashed in anger while Leon's remained passive and patient, the blond leaned down and hissed, "You can tell him yourself," he stood up and dusted his hands as if merely standing near the fields and the common huts had dirtied him somehow.

He hesitated before sighing, most of his anger leaving him – Leon knew it was frustration, for the most part, Seifer let a lot of things get under his skin, and he almost felt sorry for him. He'd never say it, though, he remembered all the shiners he had received in the past and all the bruises he'd left in return when they were both young and quick to anger. Seifer had never let go of that shortcut to anger though he had more control of it now.

Seifer put his hands in his brown overcoat and kicked at the ground a little uselessly "Genesis … he didn't ask for you."

Leon nodded and answered softly "I know."

Seifer rubbed at his nose with two fingers – looking, for the most part, frustrated but Leon knew he was more complex than that.

Attempting to lighten the mood Leon added: "The day he asks for me is the day Father Hojo's called a Heretic."

The loud snort forced it's way out of Seifer's mouth before he could stop it, he chuckled just the once before resuming his stern attitude. "Even so, if you'd help it would … you know, help." He walked off before he could get an answer and Leon watched him leave while quietly wondering just how much of his pride had received a bruise for coming to ask him and then offering a 'Seifer' version of concern. Would it be wise to tell him that bullying people into something potientially for their own good was more trouble than it was worth?

Leon had no intention of going to see Genesis and they both knew it. His help would be accepted if he turned up, his skills near unmatched, but he refused. Besides, Leon swore he would never partake in one of those Hunts ever again. His brow darkened at the memory, dim but as horrifying as ever, as it refeshed and strengthened his resolve to keep away from the seasonal event.

He picked up a cloth and wrapped the bowl for his journey, making sure that the meat was safe and that there were no bones left in the pink flesh. Putting together his package he pulled his Red Cloak around his shoulders again and made for the trees.

He stepped onto a path he knew well and followed the winding inside the frontier of the forest. The usual pull at his soul to step off the path and into the trees was constant as he made his way to the familiar clearing. Every moment he refused was frustrating, he couldn't name what was making him so facinated by the inner wood and for ten years he had been without an answer.

It was likely he'd never receive one.

The clearing with the hut a few feet larger than his own and the herb garden attached to it setted the urge to disappear into the depth of the forest, an easy smile rose to his lips and he cleared his throat to catch the attention of the figure gardening.

The woman stood up and a Motherly smile warmed her pale face "My Squall."

Leon crossed to her and held her back as she pulled him into a feirce hug, he did not mind her calling him that, though she respected his reasons she had never stopped slipping into using his true name when emotional or distracted.

"Hello Matron, are you well?" he touched her pale cheek in concern, she was a little thin and it was only her smile that put any light into her.

Edea nodded and held his hand in both of hers "It is just the leftover drag of winter, nothing more, I'll be right as rain in the coming weeks – just you watch." She glanced curiously at the covered bowl he had with him and invited him inside for tea.

Leon accepted. The house was near empty now, the orphans had grown up and no one had any need for a Matron now, but she was still a healer and where there had once been stacks of children's toys and clothes there were now stacks of pots and pastes and charms. Leon took in the familiarity of the place with a smile, this was his second place of perference with the forest coming first. Taking a seat by the hearth and unwarpped his gift as she prepared some hot water.

"I hope this helps with the winter drag," offering his Mother-figure the freash meat he hoped that she would recover fast.

Edea's hands rose to her face "Oh my, Leon, you don't have to-"

The younger cut her off with a hand on her shoulder "I want to. Take it," he pressed the bowl to her hands and she began to smile again.

"Bless you, Squall," she kissed his forehead "If there's anything I can do for you in return please say."

"Well … my Cloak got a hole in the shoulder-" he began.

Edea had already found a needle in the stacked shelves and boxes "Where exactly?" She took the Cloak and set to work as Leon had took a pouch of salt from her shelves and sat back down to preseve the meat for her.

Edea smiled as warm as her hearth as they worked "Did you go out?"

Nodding and focusing, Leon said "The winter was harsh on the animals this year, only the migrating deer have had any luck."

Matron sat by him and watched her pot for steam, the tiny hole already swen up as good as new. "You're very kind to go out and bring me food, but a man needs to eat more than an old woman," she brushed a strand of greying hair out of her eyes and pulled a shawl of yellow - Selphie's design by the look of it – closer to her body. "You should keep some for yourself next time."

Leon snorted "I'd be an ungreateful child; doesn't your religion say 'Love thy parents'?"

"Honor your father and your mother, that your days may be long in the land that the Lord your God is giving you," Edea murmured, a blush creaping up her cheeks she sent Leon a fond look and wished he was still small enough to engulf in a hug. 'Parent' indeed …

"You're under no obligation to provide for me," she objected.

"You raised me, and you've saved my life at least twice to my knowledge," his hands stilled and Edea noticed his eyes shift with mixed emotions.

"That's more than my own Mother …"

Lost in the familiar and conflicting feelings about the parents he never knew he didn't realise that Matron had up asside her finished work to comfort him. Gentle hands touched his shoulder and chin and he was forced to look into her warm brown eyes.

"She is the one at most disadvantage, Squall, she gave me a great gift the day I found you and I would have been the greater fool to have done the same. Otherwise she is the biggest fool I can imagine for giving up on you, you're one of the biggest joys in my life." Her hands were rough to feel but their touch was as kind as ever, hands of a healer, hands of a hard worker, and hands that had kept him safe in his darkest hours.

Leon smiled.

Edea shuffled closer and pointed out an error in his salting technique, a piece of advice Leon was quick to reject with a roll of his eyes. "Excuse me, are you the Hunter?" Edea laughed and passed him the warmed water with Yarrow leaves floating on the surface, Leon watched it brew with a serene expression.

Edea hesitated before speaking lowly "Do you remember, when you were young, you'd curl up by the fire with your sisters and if I was busy you'd all whine until I at least worked beside you … you were all so sweet," she looked at the mat before the hearth with an expression of hope and heartbreak.

Leon looked at the rug. It was sheeps wool and very fluffy, he imagined it would have been very warm to lay on. He imagined Quistis and Selphie lounging on the rug, a small pang echoed through his head as he thought he recalled them playing dolls together … but they were too old for 'cuddles' and group piles, having accepted their role as maturing girls.

"No."

Edea's breathing hitched.

"I don't remember."

"I see …"

Sensing her distress Leon ducked his head "Sorry."

Her arms were around him before he could blink "No! It's not your fault. I just … I spoke without thinking, when you said that I was like an honoured Mother to you I … I got carried away, please forgive me? I didn't meant to cause you sadness."

Never could he stay mad her or, he quickly assured her. "I know, it's fine."

They drank their tea to pleasant smalltalk about the village happenings, Leon shared some of his thoughts of the health of the forest and the Hunts that would take place soon. Edea indulged him with stories of the local gossip, keeping the topics light and unrelated the the friction that underlay everyday life. Leon could imagine that nothing was wrong for a moment, and that all was normal.

When night fell Leon heard a familiar sound and half sighed half smiled. Edea looked up at the door too and quietly crossed herself "There're many tonight."

Leon nodded "Genesis is going to go mad when he doesn't find them." He felt her questioning gaze and just sent her a confident smirk "Men and Wolves aren't created equally," he sipped his tea "They have no chance at catching them off guard, the Wolves aren't stupid."

Edea hummed "Fish do swim, Birds do fly, Wolves remain a step ahead."

"Amen."

Okay, disappointing response last week, calling it quits for a bit until I've bulked up some more chapters. Feel free to send encouragement or otherwise wait. - yes, I am very much stooping to the level of withholding chapters on you guys.