Page 9 of Little Red Riding Hood
Red stared at his boots, removing his eyes from Wim’s sight. It’s not as if Red wanted Wim to find his face pleasing—definitelynot, in fact—but he’d rather get the inevitable question over with.
Wim frowned at him. “What is it?”
“You haven’t remarked on my eyes. People usually do, when they meet me.”
A bark of a laugh. “I’ve had slightly more important things to think about. What of your eyes?” Wim cleared the distance between them to kneel by Red’s log, capturing his chin and lifting it up. Hislarge hand was warm, his touch gentle, and for a moment Red forgot to be angry about the sudden violation of his body.
“As you can see, I have one good eye and one bad eye,” Red replied, stating the matter factually.
“That’s not ideal for an archer.”
“I can see perfectly fine out of it!” Red snapped, jerking his chin away. “It’s only that it’s the wrong colour.” Wim’s own bewitching golden eyes only blinked, and so Red added, pointing at the offending eye, “Instead of matching its twin, this one is an ugly brown colour.”
A complicated expression Red couldn’t decipher passed over Wim’s face. This wasn’t the first time the man had been surprisingly hard to read. It was infuriating—now was the time Red needed his people-reading skills the most.
Wim opened his mouth, then clamped it shut again.
“The eggs are probably ready,” Red said pointedly.
Wim tentatively chose one, then blew on it a few times before passing it to Red. When Red held the warm egg, his hands started to tremble, the anticipation of food all too much.Praise the heavens!He lightly tapped it against his log to crack it, then peeled the shell off with gentle fingers, lest he waste a single morsel of egg white.
The second the egg entered his mouth, a loud groan of appreciation slipped out of him. Would he even have been able to continue walking today, without this sustenance?
Red had somehow devoured his egg before Wim even finished deshelling his. His gaze settled on the third egg, sitting between them on the slab.
“Go on,” Wim said with a disgruntled huff. “Take it.”
What?“But you’re twice the size of me,” Red whispered, his mind scrambling to understand Wim’s reasoning.
“It won’t do if you keel over on our journey. Plus, I can’t stand that waifish look in your eyes.”
Red opened his mouth to spit out a retort, then closed it, snatching the third egg up before Wim could change his mind.
“Would’ve thought the palace kept their people fed better than this. You’re nothing but bones in a sack.”
“The Queen’s inner court has enough. The rest of us get the scraps.” Was Auntie Anne getting enough to eat, now that Red wasn’t there to slide some of his own portion onto her plate before he brought it to her?
Wim grunted. “More food than some, still.”
Swallowing the last bite of egg, Red nodded. It was true—he was thankful he didn’t live in any of the nearby villages, where reports of starvation were frequent. But hopefully, not for much longer. He jumped up, brushing some shell from his cloak. “We’d best get moving.”
Afrown etched itself between Red’s brows, the stupid map crinkling between his fingers. He squinted at the spidery lines, twisting it this way and that. Then he sighed. As ifthatwould magically reveal some hidden path. He puffed air through pursed lips.
Forest. More forest. Trees.
Bloody useless.
“Lost your way, sweetheart?” Wim’s deep voice rumbled. Red whipped around. The wolf rested against a thick oak, leaning some distance away, arms crossed over his broad chest. Amusement danced in his eyes.
The situation was far from funny.
“Certainly not! Simply… strategising.” Red refolded the map with a sharp snap, tucking it away.
“Right. Strategising.” Wim chuckled, a low sound that vibrated through the air. “Because wandering aimlessly in circles is the finest art of navigation.”
“I wasn’t wandering incircles.”
“Course you weren’t.” Wim pushed himself off the tree. “Hand over the map. I’ll take point.”
