Thanks to Tania Marin for permission to use her lovely image "Red and Her Wolves"!
Check out more of Tania's art on deviantart.com and Facebook.
Check out more of Tania's art on deviantart.com and Facebook.
Red leaned into
the woodcutter’s hug, squeezing her arms around his waist as she pressed her
cheek against his chest. “I can’t believe it’s over.”
“You’re safe now,
Red. She’ll never hurt you again. No one will.”
Kasha, the alpha
female of the white wolves, pushed her head against Red’s thigh and moved to sit
in the open doorway. The wolves had all groomed each other clean while Red and
the woodcutter said their goodbyes. Their coats gleamed in the moonlight as
they gathered outside the small cabin that had been Red’s hell for so long.
Since her dying
mother sent her through the forest to live with her grandmother. The old woman
had welcomed her with open arms that first day, and cuddled her close that
night. In the morning, she put Red to work washing the floor, and when it
wasn’t clean enough, beat Red’s bare bottom and legs with a birch switch until
she bled. That had been the beginning.
The wolves’ den
had been Red’s only refuge, and one she carefully protected from her
grandmother and anyone else who entered the forest. But every time she fled to
the wolves, she knew eventually she must return to her grandmother’s cold rage.
The woodcutter
found Red sobbing over Kasha’s mate. Kento had led hunters away from the den,
but ran afoul of a poisoned arrow. The hunters didn’t eat wolf meat. Red found
Kento lying in the forest stream, blood and foam trickling from his wound and
his mouth. She knew better than to touch him there, but she had pulled his head
onto her lap and swept her long black hair over his white fur until his eyes
dimmed and his body cooled. Where her hair mingled with his fur, it faded from
black to white.
Unquestioning in
the face of her grief, the woodcutter dug a grave and helped carry Kento and
lay him in it. He covered the wolf’s body with the dirt and rocks from the
riverside. Finally he pulled Red up from the ground and hugged her tightly to
him. Still unspeaking, he led her to his hut deep in the forest.
He asked her to
stay, but she knew she had to return to her grandmother, or the cruel old woman
would send hunters after her. If they found the wolves’ den, they would kill
them all.
Since then, Red
had spent as much time in the forest as she could manage to escape from her
grandmother. Kasha accepted the woodcutter around her pups, and he traded cuts
of deer for tender rabbits that the wolves caught.
The wolves found
delicate, pungent truffles that Red carried home as a peace offering. The
woodcutter planted apple trees that bore the brightest, sweetest apples Red had
ever tasted. These prizes gave her reason to spend more time in the forest, and
sometimes pleased her grandmother enough to allay a beating.
Until one warm
day, Red left her long cloak at home, choosing a light summer tunic instead.
When she returned, her grandmother pointed to the wolves’ white hairs and the
woodcutter’s short black hairs and beat Red until she was bloody from head to
toe.
She crept out of
the house that night on hands and knees, and Kasha found her lying in the
stream, not far from Kento’s grave.
TBC?
Dogs
in House
|
Houdini, Brindle
|
|
|
Music
|
Jesse Cook, “Havana”
|
|
|
Time
writing
|
30 minutes
|
|
|
May
word count
|
7,309
|
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