Red's Wolf

The night always brought out the worst in the world, what was it about the darkness that lured the wicked out? She had awakened when the moon hung low over the tree tops, bathing the forest in pale light. Mist steadily streamed low over the damp grass, a moan of discomfort left Rosalyn's lips. A single hoot of a faraway owl was the only reply she received. Her vision finally came to and her memory started rushing back. Her father had sent her off to the village seamstress, she was to be dressed as a bride. Given to the richest man in town, the only one who could afford to buy her father's debt. She had been sold like a token at an auction to the highest bidder, and the huntsman had won her. A lifetime to live, with the huntsman as companion. A shiver sliced through her body as she recalled her prospective husband's unearthly silver eyes. She had seen him two years ago, and the memory haunted her even now. Why could her father not see that this was wrong? She knew thinking things like that would be meaningless, Ingred didn't have a fatherly bone in his body. Rosalyn groaned in pain as her body lay on the floor, her ankle ensnared in a trap made by her fiance. The irony was not lost upon the girl, for being victim to the huntsman's weapons. The metal claws were digging deeper into her skin and touching bone, blood crusted the silver tool. The red wedding dress she had been so beautifully fitted into, had been torn by nature. Scattered pieces of fabric rested in lonely corners of the forest. A shawl that had been woven through her arms had been caught by thorn branches. The gold bangles she wore were covered with grime. Her hair had fallen from its intricate braided bun, spilling into an open ocean of black over dark damp grass. Rosalyn looked like a madwoman on the run. Small twigs latched onto her hair, and her skin was marred with foul dirt. Much of her hands had been cut by the rocky stones that she had landed on. A pulsing sorrow gripped her heart then, never had Rosalyn imagined that life would play out this way. Never had she imagined that on the eve of her wedding, she would be on the run. Anger quickly followed the poison that was self-pity, and it left a horrible taste on her tongue. Why did it have to be this way? A simple life, why was that impossibly hard to access? Her father Ernest Ingred, had been greedily consuming alcohol, when news of her departure rang. She recalled her father's pudgy face and his always red eyes, the bottle never left his fingers. He had began abusing liquor since the death of his wife Celia, becoming so lost in grief that he had been mistaking his daughter for his wife. A once noble banker now had become a gambling fool, Rosalyn had made the choice to leave him easily, she refused to spend her nights falling asleep in front of her bedroom door. Her father had most likely gone on a day drinking binge before informing his neighbors that his daughter was nowhere to be found. The villagers had all come together to search for the missing girl, thinking she had gotten cold feet or likely had lost her way. Their torches had led her into the woods, and just as they had left without finding her, Rosalyn's foot had caught on a trap. One thing was for certain, she would not be going back to a life that wasn't her choice. A howl in the distance, broke the young girl out of her thoughts. For a few moments she had gotten lost within her sea of thoughts, she had forgotten where she was, she was completely helpless. It was not long after that the shadow of a creature fell over her, Rosalyn turned her head. Her heart stopped. Perspiration covered her skin as her breaths came out in quick shallow pants.