Page 21 of Little Red Riding Hood
“I gave myself more when I dished up.”
It was an outright lie, but Red accepted the refilled bowl. His heart pounded in his chest, and he kept his eyes firmly on the stew. “Why do you keep feeding me?”
Wim chuckled. “Maybe I’m fattening you up to eat, aye?”
Red flinched so violently, the bowl almost slipped out of his fingertips.
Wim’s face dropped. “Shit, that was stupid of me. Bad joke. Suppose that’s still a bit raw after I did almost eat you the other day.”
Red quickly changed the subject. “Speaking of eating, you’re a great cook, I have to say. I could eat this until I burst.”
Humming, Wim ran his finger along the insides of the cooking pot, scraping the very last remnants out. “Always liked cooking. I used to cook for my pack most nights, before…”
The fire crackled and popped.
“Before your… sickness?”
Wim nodded. “Been too long since I’ve had anyone to cook for. Good to see someone appreciate my food again. Even if you do chew with your mouth open.”
“I do not!” Red said, through his final mouthful of potato, then slapped his hand over his mouth. As he swallowed, he imagined Wim cooking on a much larger flame, dozens of others sitting around in a circle each evening, sharing food and stories. The thought both warmed his heart while simultaneously making him feel very alone.
“Do you miss them terribly?”
“Yes,” Wim answered, as soft as a whisper. “Terribly.”
Wim’s entire body sagged. What was it like, being away from the people who made you whole? Red wouldn’t be able to say. Wim was missing a piece of himself, but it was a piece that didn’t even exist for Red. At least you couldn’t miss what you’d never had. Yet Red’s heart ached, a painful gnawing sensation like a phantom limb, one he could feel but had never known, leaving him with an emptiness that felt as vast as the night sky.
“Does your pack… all live together?”
For a brief moment, Wim appeared startled by the question. Then he grinned. “Not all squeezed under one roof, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“I obviously didn’t mean that.” Was the wolf determined to remain infuriating for their entire journey together?
“Most live near the heart of our land—there’s a big clearing there, with a well. Got a proper stone kitchen where I used to cook. The pups play in the grass. My place is just a small cottage, out on the edge.”
“Oh?” Red pretended there was still food left in his bowl to scrape with his spoon. “You live there alone?” he asked, in an extremely casual manner.
Not casual enough—Wim left a beat of silence before replying, “Aye, I do. Why do you ask?”
“Just making conversation!” Red forced himself to look at the wolf, where a small smirk was waiting for him on Wim’s lips. “I suppose I wondered if you had a… partner. A… wolf-mate, perhaps.”
“No mate. Got the cottage all to myself. There’s space, though, for two… should I need it.”
Red’s gaze lingered on Wim across the fire, conscious of his brow furrowing. Wim’s expression remained inscrutable, offering no hints of what lay behind his words.
“Umm… Well, that’s good. It’s good to be prepared for these things, I guess.”
Wim’s large chest shook, and his lips pressed together tightly. “Aye.”
The wind picked up, rustling the leaves above them and flickering the fire, casting dancing shadows around them. A chill ran through the air, wrapping around Red like an icy blanket.
He hasn’t asked me if I have anyone special waiting for me back at the palace.For a moment, Red pictured himself through Wim’s eyes—a pathetic nobody, disposable,friendless.
“I do have friends, by the way,” Red said, more to his empty bowl than Wim’s face. “You know, earlier. You said I didn’t have any friends.”
Red caught Wim’s gaze, and for a fleeting moment, he saw a flicker of understanding in those deep, steady eyes. Wim’s posture softened slightly, and he leaned forward.
“I’m sure you do, sweetheart.”
