Dancing through the forest, Clover smiled, Mister Ram would be so sparkly if she brought back a bigger hunt, she could picture him now. 

His twitchy ears, his little hoofs that stomp on the ground. 

HE’S SO CUTE AND PERFECT!! 

She adored him, Sheepies and Rams are just the best, skipping through the forest, she found herself in a patch of flowers. 

Stopping, a nostalgic dull filled her mind, as if whispers were hugging her, silence filled the forest when a voice broke through. 

“Good day, Little Red.” It said, and turning around, she saw a wolf. 

The wolf wore a proper tie and a sinister grin. 

“Thank you kindly, wolf….” She said, looking at his fur, tinged in blood. 

Creeping closer, he smirked. 

“Where do you go so early? Little Red.” Saliva began to drip down his chin and stain the flowers as she could feel his warm breath. 

“To hunt…” She said, her eyes a burning red. 

“Hunt? Why, whatever would you hunt for?” He said, and quickly, she grabbed his snout, his skull shattering as she squeezed it. 

“To hunt you…Mister Wolf.” A howl pierced the air as she broke his snout, and he yelped, his scream turning into a crazed growl. 

With a strength in her fingertips far from human, she grabbed him and with a single twist, snapped his neck, a yelp was the last sound he made, as he fell. 

“Mister wolf….you're crushing the flowers….” She said, looking at him and stepping back. 

He wasn’t very big, and far from impressive…she’d have to find a bigger one for Mister Ram, to make him smile! 

“There you are!!” A sharp voice said as Mister Ram fell from the sky, his hooves clicking once he landed. 

“What are you doing?! Are you okay?! Are you-“ Stopping, he looked at the wolf, it’s head snapped. 

“A Moon Fiend…during the day…?” He said, a horror in his eyes as he began to tap his foot. 

“How is it dead?! Did you find it here? Or-“ Looking at her hands, she hides them behind her back and smiles. 

“It’s not that big, I’m sorry Mister Ram.” Sighing, she tapped her foot against the dirt and Mister Ram waved his hands. 

“What?! I never asked you to get one- more importantly, nothing's injured right?!” Mister Ram said while checking her over, and she giggled. 

Jumping at him as she began petting his head again. 

“H-hey! Well, I take it you’re fine!” He said, his ears flicking around. 

“I’m glad Mister Ram wasn’t here to be hurt by this Mister Wolf.” She said cheerily. 

“What?” Mister Ram said as he looked into her eyes. 

“Or I would have had to play with Mister Wolf before he died….he wouldn't have liked it very much…” She said, creepily as he froze completely still, call it an animal instinct, but he stopped moving entirely as she pet him. 

She’s crazy…..insane….

Watching from the trees, Sabrina scowled as she turned her head away, something was deeply wrong with that girl….

Since the incident with the wolf, a week had passed, sitting near the fireplace, Mister Ram read a book while Clover sat in the chair next to him. 

“Alright, this should be the most accurate version of the fable we have.” He said, smiling as his ears twitched, and when she reached for them he moved away, and she sighed, slumping against the chair. 

“The book on the Moon things right?” She said, and he closed the book, tilting his head up. 

“Yes! The Moon Fiends, back in the early day they were called- Nevermind just read this.”  Handing her the book, she turned her head and looked at the words. 

“There’s no pictures.” She said calmly, And he nodded his head.

“Yep, hurry, read along.” He responded, but she just stared at it. 

“I don’t know how to.” Looking at the words, it all looked like strange scribbles, and his eyes widened. 

In the entire week he’s known her he’s never actually asked if she could read?! 

How could I forget that?! 

“O-Oh! I’m sorry! Here- let me.” Taking the book back, he cleared his throat and she giggled and stood up, running to sit beside him, squeezing in. 

“There is no room- or you’ll make room I guess.” He said, squished against her as they sat in a comfy chair, the book on their laps lit by firelight. 

Resting her head against his shoulder, she listened to his words. 

Once upon a time there was a girl dressed in red, on her way to her grandmother's house, she was bringing cake and wine.

While on her way to the house, a wolf called out. 

“Good day.” And the girl smiled and responded. 

“Thank you Kindly.” Inquiring where she was to go, the wolf was told she was on her way to her grandmother's house. 

Quickly the wolf thought of a plan, pretending to be the grandmother, that day the Fiends were born, made for trickery. 

The girl in red thought better of his plan, and called the huntsman, cloaked in red the two killed the wolf, just as things should be. 

As all wolves should die. 

And the huntsman’s were born, cloaked in red they slay the Fiends, and lastly, I cast a spell. 

Wishing upon the red moon, Wicked Fiends will only be born at night, and never day, so that dear Red will never have to worry about staying from the path, ever again. 

Something about the story simply felt wrong, she didn’t know why, or even how, but it was off. 

“Mister Ram?” She said quietly, almost a whisper as his ears twitched, and he looked over to see her bright red eyes. 

“What about the Door? And the sheep?” She asked, his brow furrowing as he looked in confusion. 

“The fable has no sheep, nor a door…” He said, and she pressed her lips together. 

“I see….so the wolf lied…” She mumbled, and he stayed silent for quite some time, but as he was about to speak, she was already drooling on his shoulder and he sighed. 

“Wolves do tend to be liars.” A voice said, and he looked behind him to see the cat. 

“Oh, Mister Presscott!” He yelped, as the cat put a finger to his own lips. 

“Hush now, you’ll wake her up, quite interesting is it not….?” Tilting his head, he looked at Clover. 

“I once heard another tale, care to listen?” Presscott said as Quentin nodded his head. 

Sitting down in the other chair Prescott grinned as he snapped his fingers, and in his hand appeared a young girl in a red cloak.

“Now listen well, it may explain why she asked for a door…” 

Once upon a time, there was a girl, loved by all she wore a bright red cap, the girl kind and sweet was off to deliver cake and wine to her grandmother. 

Her grandmother a rather prudent woman never left the forest, but Little Red never minded, after all, she dearly loved the flowers along the path. 

With her basket, Little Red walked along the path, to greet a wolf. 

“Good day….” The wolf said….

“Good day, wolf.” The girl responded, but the wolf bared his fangs and lunged at her, screaming Little Red ran into the forest when she met the huntsman. 

“Oh sir! A wolf is near my grandmother's house!” Grabbing his axe, the huntsman rushed into the house where Grandmother lived. 

Peeking around the corner, Grandmother lay in bed….bloodied and cold….

With tears little red rushes to her side, and fed her cake and wine, bringing her back, as if it were magic. 

The wine shimmered and the cake glowed, like that of a fable, and then before their eyes, the wolf walked from the kitchen. 

“Little red…do share some wine and cake…” He said, covered in blood. 

 Taking the cake and wine, she ran out the door, the wolf following, the huntsman chasing them both. 

“I can’t let you have this! Mother made it!” She yelled, deeper into the forest, she saw a door. 

“Throw the cake and wine in!” The huntsman yelled, but little red couldn’t lose the wine and cake, for she was but a child with no clue. 

So the little girl threw herself in, and the huntsman shut the door in the forest, trapping the wolf as he picked up the cake and wine. 

And little red and the wolf, we’re no more…

“Quite the tale is it not?” Presscott asked, and Quentin pressed his lips together. 

“Yes…a rather horrid tale…..”