Wolves Could Love Too

• Chapter 1 •

Daisy

The bare black pines seemed to me so sad and fragile against the background of the desolate autumn landscape that my soul shrank at the sight of their broken stems. Even through the glass of the window I was standing in front of, I could see the anguish and weakness emanating from these ancient trees.

In just a moment I would meet them up close.

The thought of it filled me with courage and positivity, but the heavy breathing of someone behind me ruined the last minutes of peace I had available. I looked around slowly, reluctantly I would say, only to fall right into Henry's sinewy mutilated body.

'Poor thing,' I thought sadly as I stared at the blindfold on his left eye and his features cruelly scarred by claws.

It had been nearly six years since my father had been killed and my brother had been rendered a living invalid. Some of the eyewitnesses said that his hand was literally torn from the body, others claimed that the wolf had eaten it. I no longer knew what was true and what was a lie. Black and white didn't make gray for me, they made red. Dark red, more like crimson and thick than the stagnant blood that clung to my village and its grieving inhabitants. A fait accompli was a fait accompli, and Henry's wounds still prevented him from parting with his crutches.

"I don't want you to go. I know where you will go and what you will do," he spoke dejectedly with his typical dark look.

He would look so handsome and manly if it weren't for the menacing deep scars. I smiled sadly, even though I didn't mean to, and tried to caress my brother's rough cheeks lightly. However, he caught my wrist in the mid-air before it even touched his skin.

"Don't do it!" he growled lowly, menacingly even, "I don't want you to feel sorry for me, I'm not some sort of pet caught for hugging."

His words hurt me more than I had imagined, even though I should have gotten used to Henry's rudeness hundreds of times by now. I knew that he was suffering, and that he tried to suppress his grief by rough words, swearing, drinking brandy, and brooding in the dark.

"Compassion is very different from pity," I replied a little harsher than I had intended, "But don't worry about me, Henry. I will be at grandmother's for three days. Until she gets better."

My older brother didn't say anything, just shook his head thoughtfully. I hated it when he acted like that. As if to him I wasn't old enough to take care of myself, but some helpless baby. It was normal for him to worry about me, but I was no longer small or helpless, but a young woman ready to make her own decisions and the risks that came with them.

"Fool," I thought to myself, passing him without looking back.

Mom was already waiting impatiently for me by the wooden door. Her expression depicted pure worry and uneasiness. The iron key in her hands seemed to tremble with reluctance to let me out into the woods where the lone wolves awaited me.

"I have put some bread, sweets, dried beef and chestnut soup," she whispered in such a lost voice as if she was sending me to be slaughtered.

"Thank you, mother" I took the basket from her hands, giving her a fake smile.

The truth was that I was afraid too. I was quite afraid, but mother was overwhelmed with work, and my brother was not able to cope alone in his wretched situation.

I was the only left to do this.

"Be careful!" mom suddenly grabbed me by the shoulders, clearly emphasizing her words, "You will not deviate from the main path! You won't talk to strangers, you won't do reckless things, and you won't go further into the woods than your grandmother's house! Am I clear, miss? If you hear a howling sound or see something wrong, run and don't try to be brave!"

"Yes, mom," I carefully broke away from her to fix myself a little in the opposite mirror.

Since I hardly ever visited grandma, this time I had decided to replace my boring casual clothes with a newly made red velvet dress. On top I had placed my favorite wolf coat, which always guaranteed me with constant warmth. My hair was down to my waist in a long braid, but I had hidden it under my red woolen scarf.

"I don't like you like that. You should have put on the gray woolen dress. It would keep you warmer and make you feel much more comfortable. What will grandma say to herself when she sees you dressed like you're going to a carnaval!?" called Henry displeased, standing on the wall frame.

"No one is asking you," I chided him childishly, just to cheer him up at least a bit.

However, my brother frowned, and it was good that mom diffused the painful situation a little.

"I repeat again, if you hear a wolf howl..."

"Either I will climb a tree or hide," I interrupted her in an annoyed voice, as I had heard these words a thousand times before.

"Or run away," she added again, stroking my face "Did you take it?"

I showed her the dagger hidden in my boot "Don't worry, mom. Everything will be fine."

"I hope," she replied in a strange voice.

I nodded slightly but said nothing. because it wouldn't make a difference nor sense.

I opened the door and took the stony, dark path littered with fallen leaves. A gust of wind ruffled the fallen strands of hair in front of my eyes, my breath caught in excitement and terror. The forest stretched before me, vast, dense and mysterious, as I remembered it from my dreams. It was the moment I said goodbye to the innocent girl I was and turned on the new page of my life as a woman ready to fight, fight, win and maybe love. My heart was pulsing with fear, but there was no going back. The wind picked up, the leaves rustled. The forest came to life as if it knew me and knew what I was capable of in the name of my own revenge, pain and sorrow. A howl was heard somewhere in the distance, but I didn't hide, I didn't run away. On the contrary, I smiled ferociously, for in my heart there was no more room for horror at the secrets of the dark nature. I was free and independent to do what I wanted, how I wanted and when I wanted.

In this fairytale, the Little Red Riding Hood had to kill the Wolf.