I've decided to give you the little bit I have written of the story in my head that was inspired by JerryCai's amazing Little Red Riding Hood works.
*yes, I know there are no autumn colors or patches of golden sunlight in the art. It just felt right as I wrote.
She slipped among the trees, bare feet silent in spite of the ankle deep autumn blanket of gold and scarlet. Her heart thumped rhythmically within, loud and strong, racing adrenaline along her veins.
The warm, damp smell of the earth, the scent of the decaying leaves wafted on the breeze.
The wind picked up for a moment, twisting a funnel of sunset foliage around her, lifting and tossing her crimson cloak. The heavy cloth and silky lining sussed softly like the quiet sound of a mother hushing her babe. The sound soothed her, calmed the intensity of the hunt momentarily.
Her quarry crouched, vainly attempting to hide his dark bulk in the shadows of the woods, his golden eyes wide, his chest heaving as he sucked oxygen into his burning lungs.
Please…
The whisper drifted to her on the resettled breeze.
So.
They were going to do this the hard way.
Her cloak flared as she drew from its recesses the huge, black sword The Hunter had given her. The tip of the blade sank into soft terra at her feet.
Please…
She would not listen, would not show mercy. He had to have known who he’d been sent to kill, known they would retaliate. Even if he hadn’t, he’d chosen his own fate the day he’d become a Wolf.
As had she.
Oh, she could claim innocence, insist that when the Wolves found her she was too young to know what it was about, but what accounted for the years that she remained with them? They’d hardened her, honed her as sharp as any hilted steel, and she’d let them.
They had taken the little girl, found wandering in the woods in naught but a hooded cloak, and turned her into a weapon. They should not have been so surprised to learn that their weapon could turn on its makers.
The hunted Wolf darted from the dusky patch. Red stood statue still, tracking him with aurous eyes.
Then she followed, the Wolf within lending silence, stealth to her hunt.
5 comments:
Nice. Reflects the feel of those paintings very well.
It's so good. Are you ready to publish stuff yet? Or not even publish it, but at least give me a copy so I can read it? :)
You could come babysit my kids for an hour every evening, and then I could get in an hour of writing every day!
Seriously, Steph. If you could find (make) the time to write, I feel certain you could be published. You have such a strong, intense voice. This Red Riding Hood story would be a NY Times bestseller! DO IT!!
Hey, I'm finally getting your blog posts in my RSS feed again! I didn't even know I was missing stuff.
This is great, Steph. You should keep going.
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