The Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood

Chapter Eleven

Nicolas yawned widely, his teeth closing together with a sharp snap of his jaws. He shook his head a bit violently, making all the small sticks and dead leaf flakes fall out of his thick mane of hair. He had just finished hunting for a few hours, though decided that he wasn't actually hungry and just chased a few rabbits and a deer around the low slopes of the forest. He walked to a small area that had only rocks on the ground,sheltered by a few tall bushes. He sighed slightly, looked up into the far away leaves of the trees and focused on the forest's sounds for comfort.

There was the regular noises at first - the slow and steady wind, the rustling of leaves, the slight rumbling of the sky, as it was clear a storm would soon surface and give the forest a rainstorm. If he stayed still, he could hear a squirrel quickly yet quietly sprinting up the bark of some tree. And if he stayed still long enough he could even hear the almost silent drift of a falling leaf. Yet there was another noise that he heard, though it was actually...foreign. It was a slightly muffled sound, masked by something, though he wasn't sure what. 

Speculation and curiosity made him rise from his position and followed the sound. He ran in its direction - something unfamiliar and foreign was on his side of the forest, in his own territory, and he was going to find what it was. 

Within a few swift sprints he found its real direction, going right to it. Within a few minutes he was in the area where he heard it, though he didn't quite see what it was. He saw the bushes and the tree stumps and the dead branches and leaves and the muck than laid in piles on the forest floor. And he spotted it.

It was a tiny little mass, moving around frantically around a bumpy patch of rocky ground, covered in moss. It looked like a bag to him and he had no idea why a bag would be moving, unless something was in it. Perhaps an animal was caught in it? It wouldn't be the first time. He sighed and walked closer to the bag and it began to move faster. It must have smelled him, a predator, and thought that it would soon be dead, even though he wouldn't be posing a threat to it.

He found the tie on the bag and tried to undo it but his thick fingers and claws forbade it. He wondered how it was able to tie the bag shut. Maybe a hunter caught it then left it to suffocate in here. It was a cruel thing, but the humans that venture into the forest usually do cruel things, to the animals and the forest itself. Instead, he used his claws to cut open the bag, slowly, careful not to hurt the little critter inside.

When the bag was removed, he was surprised to see the animal, since it wasn't a little critter. It was a small human child. It was a little girl human, with slightly chubby cheeks and curly hair, he thought. He could only guess since she was filthy. Her hair was smeared with dirt and thin strands of muted gold peeked through. She had a little yellow dress that was ripped and cut up all over, like she was dragged and tossed around. There were deep bruises all over her little body, and a cut on her forehead drew blood and a small yet steady trickle ran down her face. There were also tears that ran down her face,along with the blood, her soft cheeks smeared with thin watery tracks.

He blinked, staring at her. Why would a baby human be alone in the woods? He thought humans took care of their children.

She suddenly realized the bag wasn't on her anymore. She didn't look at him though just made a little high-pitched scream, backing into the bush, trying to huddle herself under the leaves. She looked up, at him though not at him .She looked through him, as if someone was somewhere behind him.

Suddenly Nicolas heard something very loud that pierced his ears that then echoed through the forest, followed by a sharp, distinctive pain that rippled through him. His fangs gritted against each other as he almost let out a deep howl, holding that long, drowning sound back. The center of the pain targeted his arm and his hand gripped at it. A ruby liquid spilled onto his fingers and ran down his arm. It was warm against the intensity of the sharp sting of pain. His golden eyes turned dark and narrowed as he slowly turned to look behind him.