Adam and Sarah looked at each other, terror apparent on both their faces. Adam then ran at his sister, grabbed her hand and, dragging her along behind him, ran deeper into the forest.

The wolf looked up and watched them go. It growled, briefly, then returned to its meal.

Sarah's breath was burning in her chest. It felt she'd been running so long and so fast, the air was all behind her and all that was left was an invisible fire she was forced to breathe in as they went.

"St... stop!" she panted, pulling her hand from her brother's grip. She stumbled and fell forward, barely missing a thick root snaking across the mud from the base of the nearest tree. Adam carried on a few more paces then stopped too.

"What are you doing?" he said, his own breath ragged. "We can't stay here! You saw what that thing did to Tom! We have to keep moving!"

"But, we don't know where we're going, Adam!" she said, pushing herself up to a crouch. "We're just running. I don't know which direction the house is, and if mum shouts, we won't be able to hear her!" She paused, her hand to her mouth. "What if mum shouts and it gets her too?"

Adam didn't know what to say. He was the male. He was meant to be strong and was often the leader of their little group, but this time he was terrified. He was straining not to pee himself out of fear and not to cry in front of his sister. She had no such restrictions. Tears started to fall freely and he saw a puddle of urine begin to spread at her feet. She looked horrified and he wasn't sure whether it was because of the pee or the wolf. He ignored it, either way.

"It won't. It will be chasing us, that's why we can't stay here."

"But you don't know that. It already ate... ate... T..." Sarah couldn't finish the sentence. Sobs broke up the words into fractured emotions and she buried her head in her arms.

Adam looked around, worried about where the wolf was. He couldn't hear it but that didn't mean it wasn't close. He couldn't think about Tom, not yet. He couldn't end up sobbing like his sister. He had to keep them moving. Maybe they could circle round and make it back to their house. They'd call the police. The police would help. They'd know what to do.

Adam took his sister by the arms and pulled her to her feet.

"We need to go, Sarah," he said, softly. "Now."

"But..."

"Now, Sarah."

The girl nodded, wiping her tears and snot away on her sleeve. This was something she'd not done since she was three years old. She felt something like that now.

"Can you run?" Adam asked.

Sarah nodded, sniffing. She knew she had to, though she also felt as if her feet were glued to the forest floor.

"Come on then, let's go!"

As they set off again, they heard the wolf's howl behind them. It was too close. Too loud. Too hungry. They found renewed energy and ran faster. With no direction in mind apart from away from the animal, the siblings could only run blindly. There were no paths this deep into the woods, and the trees grew randomly with roots spreading in all directions, threatening to trip them if they lost concentration. Both brother and sister kept their eyes firmly on their course, haphazard though it was.

A howl, to their right. A dart to their left. Crunching twigs. Thudding paws. With every sound, they changed their direction to move away. The children had no idea if the noises were from the wolf, but they had no choice but to try and avoid it. Their strength was flagging, however, and the closer the sounds came, the heavier their feet seemed to become.

"Look!" panted Sarah. She was pointing ahead. "A light! Is that... Is that smoke?"

Adam looked to where she was indicating and a sense of hope burned away the tiredness.

"A house!"

"Is it ours?"

"I don't think so, sis. But who cares? Let's just get there!"

The pair held hands, gaining a boost from the contact, and pushed on towards the building. As they grew nearer, the trees thinned and then stopped, creating a clearing around the house which was covered in myriad flowers and plants none of which the children recognised. They could still hear the crashing of the wolf through the forest as they entered the clearing and the sudden absence of trees made them feel uncomfortably exposed.

Running up to the front door of the house, they hammered at the aged wood. The paint had long since peeled away and the remaining surface was weather worn and tired. It shook and banged against its frame, looking as if it could shake loose at any moment.

No one answered for a long moment and the children turned to face the forest, despair making them tremble as the red eyes of the wolf stared at them from the shadow of the trees' canopy. It howled, a triumphant yell telling the siblings they were out of luck. They were lunch. They were dead.

Then the door opened and the pair fell backwards into darkness. A hand grabbed each of them, stopping them from hitting the ground.