Today’s Word Bohemia prompt which can be found here…
It was that time of the year when the smell drifts from fresh-cut grass to woodsmoke. The children skipped off, new bags on their backs, full of crisp new books with sharp white pages waiting to be turned.
“Come straight home,” the parents say. “Don’t stop. And don’t go into the woods. There’s still wolves there you know, they’d make a nice snack out of you.”
They pointed out the huntsman’s cabin at the edge, the border between safe and unsafe. “If you’re ever stuck, ask him to walk with you.”
The parents shook their heads and muttered about how he’d done his best to save that lovely girl in the red coat. Such a pity.
In his cottage, the huntsman stroked the red material. His souvenir. He remembered Red. They’d called her that, all of them. An orphan. With a frail grandmother. Wouldn’t ever be missed.
We all know wolves are really afraid of people.