Page 26 of Little Red Riding Hood
A horrible coldness washed over Red, all of Wim’s gifted warmth vanishing. He couldn’t help but glare at the new wolf, who’d appeared from nowhere, ruining everything.
“He’s not,” Wim said firmly, an edge of warning to his voice, and Red inwardly smiled.
See! Fuck off, lady!
“We’re travelling as quickly as we can,” Red said, because he hadn’t said anything yet. “I’m on an official royal quest, which requires the utmost haste.”
Wim spun, eyes wide, shaking his head subtly.
What? Was Astrid not to be trusted?
“I don’t have time for you,” the wolf spat at him, before turning back to Wim. “The reason I’m here—not that you’ve asked me yet—is because Tobias is missing.”
Wim’s face drained of colour, his eyes widening in horror. “Tobias? Missing?” His voice cracked, raw with emotion. “How? When?”
Red watched as Wim’s strong frame seemed to crumple, his earlier confidence evaporating like morning mist. The name Tobias stirred something in Red’s memory—hadn’t Wim mentioned this young pack member yesterday, while they were exchanging numerous tales?
Astrid’s tail drooped, her ears flattening against her head. “Five nights ago. He overheard us discussing your departure. My little fool of a son got it into his head that he could help you somehow.”
A child, lost in these treacherous woods? The slave traders were simply one of many, many dangers that lurked in the shadows.
“Fuck!” Wim’s anguished cry cut through the air. “Seven winters old! Wherever he is, he’s probably shit scared.”
Seven winters.Red’s heart clenched. So young, so vulnerable. He remembered being that age, lost and alone in the palace, desperately seeking a place to belong. The thought of a child braving the forest’s perils made his stomach churn. A surge of protectiveness washed over him with surprising intensity.
Astrid growled, frustration evident in her stance. “Don’t you think I know that? I’ve been searching non-stop, following his scent. Then I picked up yours a couple of hours ago. He can’t be too far from here!” Her voice broke, a whine escaping her throat.
Red’s gaze darted between Wim and Astrid, noting the shared pain in their eyes.
Wim scratched his arm, his fingers travelling upwards to a wound on his biceps that Red hadn’t noticed before. He seemed to pick at it, digging his fingers into it until he winced. “If only I’d tried to see Toby myself before I left, and explained everything properly.”
Astrid’s tone softened. “Don’t blame yourself, Wilhelm. Everyone makes choices. Tobias chose to try to help you. And now I’ve chosen to follow his trail alone, because what else can a mother do?”
The words struck Red like an arrow to the chest.Choices. How many times had Auntie Anne said those exact words to him?“Everyone makes choices, my dear Red. Even choosing to do nothing is still a choice.”
He remembered her weathered hands on his shoulders the day he’d chosen to train as an archer. Remembered how she’d smiled and told him she was proud, even though it meant seeing less of him.
“Some choices define us,”she’d said.
“I’ll help,” Red blurted out, surprising even himself. Both Wim and Astrid turned to stare at him. “I mean, I’ll try. I might not have wolf senses, but I have a pair of eyes.”
Wim’s expression softened, a flicker of gratitude passing over his features. “Red, you don’t have to—”
“I want to,” Red insisted, meeting Wim’s gaze. “No child should be alone in this forest.” If Red, a grown man, had found it challenging enough, goodness knows how frightened this boy was.
Astrid’s hackles lowered slightly, her eyes studying Red with newfound interest. “I wouldn’t say no to an extra pair of eyes. I separated from the rest of the search party yesterday to cover more ground.”
Wim kneeled to press his head against Astrid’s snout, rubbing his face into her fur.
Looking between them, a lump formed in Red’s throat. The way they communicated without words, the shared understanding in their eyes… it spoke of a bond forged through season after season of companionship.
The pang of loneliness that struck Red was sharp, but familiar. He turned away, busying himself with adjusting his cloak. The fabric felt rough beneath his fingers. Red had never truly belonged anywhere. Not in the palace, and not out here.
A gust of wind rustled through the trees, and Red shivered. He glanced back at Wim and Astrid, still lost in their silent communication. The ache in his chest intensified. Would anyone ever look at him with such concern, such devotion?
Red squared his shoulders, pushing the melancholy aside. There was no time for dilly-dally daydreams, as Auntie Anne would say. There was a child to find.
Seven
