The WolfAs evening descended on the mountains, she hurried through the wood. The narrow path lay twisting and curling around the bare trees. The last golden embers of the dying day still lingered as her steps quickened. The wood lay quiet save the sound of her feet on crisp, untrodden autumnal leaves. It would be a lie to say that she wasn't afraid. They had warned far too often to not venture into the woods in the evening for her to remain unafraid as light ebbed away and night wrapped her dark wings around her. The woods were filled with wolves. She had heard their wails herself often on a cold winter's night. Ravenous and wily, they preyed on the unwary traveller, unfortunate enough to cross their path.
"Those wolves can be awful wily," her mother had told her, as she put her baby brother to sleep. "Often they take on a man's shape to fool you before they tear you apart limb from limb."
She had shuddered within the safety of her blanket, too terrified to ask any further.
"Are you lost?"
She stopped in her tracks at the sound of the voice.
Before her stood a young man. There were none like him back in the village. A stranger in the woods. A beautiful man, with eyes that seemed pools of secrets waiting to be discovered.
"Who is with you?" he asked again, as he stepped closer.
Her eyes took in the rippling muscles and golden skin. He smiled slightly, and she shuddered.