If you read until here, you might already discovered that those who seem as if they were good not always are. Same counts the other way around, but often enough, it seems that we rather belive what fits into our picture than what challenges it. That counts for your world....just as much as for ours.

"The adults, like mom and grandma and the hunter keep saying that I would be to tiny to understand anything. Maybe that's true, I somehow wish it was. Because about this story that I am about to tell, I'm afraid that I just understand a bit too much. But decide by yourself.

It starts on a normal morning, where my mom sent me to bring stuff to grandma again, in a basket like always. I actually quite liked walking to grandma's house, the way through the woods was beautiful, with flowers growing on the side. What I did not really like was being at grandma's house. All about it was so old and narrow, the air always smelling like grandma's heavy perfume, the red curtains always only letting a tiny bit of sunlight in, and the roses on her table always looking like about to fade. And then, always the same ritual tool place once I arrived. Because it was not just giving grandma the basket and leaving, no, it was having to sit down at her wooded table with the dying flowers, eating cake with way too much cream and listening stories about how everything used to be better in the old days. Or, even worse, grandma asking countless questions about how my parents were, how I was, if our neighbour Mrs. Maude still was the annoying cow she used to be, if I had finally learned to cook, why I wouldn't do more with the 'charming little Eva' from next door......and beware if I had no answer for her questions, or one that didn't satisfy her. She always would get grumpy, wave her finger right in front of my face and say things like "I hope I didn't hear that young lady" or "One day you'll put us all to shame, I feel it".
I know what you think now. That this is the usual complaining of a child, who has no understanding for anyone else but herself. At least that is what mom would say. But, actually, I did understand, and that is why I still did all that was expected, I smiled, listened to her chattering, stuffed myself with cake.
Because I somehow felt that, deep inside, grandma was really lonely.
Since grandpa had not come back from hunting 3 years ago, their house in the wood became a prison of isolation for grandma who, at that time already, could barely move anymore. As long as I can remember, even if that is not that long, she's always been sick. No way she would walk into the town on her own. Before, grandpa would take her. He took a lot care for her when he was still there, and she was happy, despite her sickness. Today, even if she could, she would never walk through the wood anymore, as she is to scared of the wolves. They say that it was a wolf who killed grandpa back then, and even though it's known that wolves never leave the forest to step on our way, she refuses to even leave her house. "Horrible creatures are those. Cold hearted killers, all of them. They envy us humans because we are smarter, and that's why they want us all dead," She one day claimed while munching a bit piece of chocolate cake, "Anyway, have some more tea, dear."
To make things even worse, and her even more alone, despite the fact all of the adults were "so sorry for her tragic loss", they only rarely or never went to visit her, even my parents. They said it was because they didn't have time, even though they seemed to had a lot of time for other stuff. But that again, they said, I was to young to understand. An expectation makes Mr. Eichwood, who used to be a hunting college of grandpa. I dislike him, since he always treats me like a 5 year old, and his "the best way for a wolf to be is dead and serving as a carpet, tragic thing it's only allowed to shot them for self defence" remarks sound, no matter how bad wolves may be, simply disgusting. But if course grandma and he get along very well, and at least he helps her a bit with being less lonely.
Another one of the few escapes from her loneliness were the Sundays, when I came over with moms basket, that on the other hand I understand very well. Sometimes, I think I understand it even better than the grown ups do.

And so, I made my way through the woods that one special morning. Spring had just come, so the I could feel the warm sun shining on my face, and hear birds singing their songs up in the trees. Best of all, flowers of nearly all colours were growing along side the path, that it was impossible to resist. I just had to pick some of them, Yellow, orange, purple, white....just red was missing. My favorite colour, as one could obviously tell from the red cape I wore nearly every day. Mom had try convince me multiple times that it was 'not suitable for a lady at the age of 10 anymore', but without success. Searching for a flower too match, I didn't even notice how I got deeper and deeper into the woods, walked under another tree and across another small river, while the forest around me got darker and darker. Suddenly, the flowers were gone, and the sunlight barely even reached the ground anymore. I was lost. Not just lost, but completely, entirely lost. Helplessly, I looked around. The trees all looked the same, dark and tall and hostile. My cheeks started to burn, and tears came streaming down my face. That was what mom always had warned me about, "stay on the path", she had advised me just this morning, and I had replied "Yes mom, of course", thinking that I wasn't five anymore and sure knew where to go and where not to go. Remembering this only make matters worse, and my anger about my own stupidity made the tears flow even faster.
"What is the matter, young lady", a voice suddenly interrupted my sobbing. Looking up through a curtain of tears, I saw the dense figure of who it belonged to. Or better what. It was wolf, standing only a few meters away, right in front of me. Everything the adults had told me about wolves before rushed through me head. There was no point in running away, nor in trying to fight, that was for sure. "Those beats can hunt a grown man down in seconds", grandma's voice echoed in my head. "Once they have seen you , it's already to late." And so, with my heart pounding in my chest, I did the only thing I had left to do. Which was responding to the question. "I lost my path, and now I don't how to get back on it again." What followed was a short silence. Had the wolf only asked to make sure I was completely alone? Closing my eyes, I tried to prepare myself for an attack, for teeling wolf's hot breath blowing my face and teeth clutching around my neck.
But nothing like that happened. Instead, the wolf only asked :"Should I show you the way? I know where the path goes."
Was this some kind of trap? Grandma sure would tell me to dismiss the offer, just like all the other adults. But what point would it have? I would only trade the small possibility to get home (with the risk to get eaten) against staying lost in the woods forever (which also came with the risk to get eaten, sooner or later). Therefore, I decided to ignore everything I ever had been taught.
"You know the way?" Now, where my vision was clear again, I could see the wolf's eyes. They didn't look aggressive and dangerous but rather....insecure, like a mirror of my own.
"Of course, I must know where the path leads in order to avoid it." The wolf responded, and then added "It's just a tiny walk from here"
The wolf started moving forward, and I followed, now more and more sure that I would actually get back on the path again. I even dared to ask:"Don't you avoid the path because it belongs to us humans?"
"Yes," was the answer. For the same reason you humans normally don't go deep into the forest." Maybe it was my imagination, but I could have sworn the wolf smiled, just a little bit. "How did you even end up here?"
"Oh," a little embarrassed, I had to confess "I was just searching for read flowers." There was that smile again. "Red flowers? Well, that's a good reason to get lost. They are truly beautiful." Now I smiled, too. Someone who liked red flowers couldn't be that evil, I thought, no matter if human or wolf. If I had told the same thing to my parents, I know they would not have understood. Getting lost because of flowers, how stupid, they would have remarked instead while shaking their heads. With the wolf, it was somehow different. As we talked now while walking, I never felt never judged for anything I said, be it that I really liked reading, that red was my favourite colour or most children my age were just way to boring.
And when the wolf told me something, like for example how in this forest the red flowers always only started to grow when the spring turned into summer, I felt like an equal, not like a tiny child who a 'wise' adult tries to tell what the world is like.

We were nearly there, as flowers grew around us again and I could already see the path, with grandma's tiny house at the end of it, when the wolf stated "Here we are", and turned around "I better go back into the forest now" My first urge was to protest; but it was probably right like this. Grandma really would not like seeing her granddaughter hiking trough the woods with the animal she had announced to be the family's arch-enemy. "Goodbye then, and thank you very much for your help." The wolf granted me another tiny smile, and was just about respond when-
"Bang." A shot fell out of nowhere. I screamed, and threw my hands up to protect my face,letting go of grandma's basket that hit the ground. The wolf screamed too, and it was the most horrible, heartbreaking cry that I had ever heard in my life. Lurking through my finger, I saw the wolf stumbeling away from the past, into the forest. Another shot fell, and the wolf hit the ground. There was no cry this time. But even worse, complete silence. And then someone cheering in distance, and someone calling my name. I ignored them, but instead ran to the wolf, still lying on the ground motionless. The blood had dyed it's silver fur red, and wide open eyes were with sadness and pain. And even though the adults would claim I was too young, I understood the wolf was dead. That it had been killed by someone, a human, who was still calling my name right now. That knowledge, and the thoughts that came with it, we're just too much for me. Everything blurred out, and I feel down on the flowers next to the wolf.

The next thing that remember is sitting in grandma's house, where many exited adults, meaning my parents, my grandma and Mr. Eichwood, explained to me how Eichwood had just heroically rescued me from getting eaten alive by an evil wolf. None of what I had to say about that mattered, obviously. They didn't even pay attention to my version of the story shrugging of everything that I wanted to say with something like "You just don't understand how thankful you can be." Of course, the usual phrase, I thought bitterly, great to tell your stupid little child great to make it shut up quickly.
But actually, I understood.
I understood how they celebrated a murder, because that's what Mr. Eichwood was. The wolf had lived, and talked, and liked red flowers, and now was lying dead with eyes wide open amd would never see any flowers ever again.
I understood how not the wolves were the beasts a long. But they."

~Malficent, somewhere in the dark forest, with permission of Hannah, better known as little Red Riding Hood~

-A/N at first I thought this was a good idea...well it wasn't. Nevermind, I guess?
(sometimes I really wish I could write better, like sometimes in my head stuff sounds great, and written down, it's trash.
Anyway, stay human,
Sero 💙
Ps: If there is any certain tail you want me to destroy....just let me know 😂-