The Little Red Wolf//klaus mikaelson☾

00//Preface

"Little wolf," she could practically hear the grin in his voice.

She turned her head, avoiding the sudden heat rising in her cheeks. Her head pounded and her hands were clammy. Her mangled nails covered her mouth to the best of her ability; wrinkles were forming just above her brow. It took her a second to reclaim herself — she worried she had given her location away already.

"I can smell you," he taunted, his words laced in that accent she adored.

She shivered at his voice. Her smile was pressed against her fingers. He could feel her trembling in the air, vibrations of the silent chuckles bouncing off the walls like those of violent winds whipping and crashing amongst the windows in a storm. He knew where she was — if he pretended to never find her he would never live it down; she always liked to tease and prod him even when she had barely any evidence to ever back up her claims.

With a shove and a gust of air, he had her in his arms. She sighed and took a deep breath as if she had realized he knew where she was the entire time.

"You're a horrendous hider," he chastised, a rumble coming from deep within his chest.

"And you're a horrendous finder," she spat, not paying attention to her words.

"But I found you," he furrowed his eyebrows as he continued to walk forward, deeper and deeper into the forest.

"But I hid from you," she whimpered, looking down at the ground.

"I'll race you back to the house," he suggested, the smell of crumpled leaves in the air filling her nose.

"No fair, you have that super speed," she crossed her arms against her chest.

A gust of wind swooped down and wrapped her in a sudden chill. He saw this and sighed, knowing that the air was getting far too cold now during this time of year. His arms tightened his grip on her and he began to ran. She held on in fear he would drop her, but he believed she was far too fragile and was afraid she would break so he held on much tighter than her.

"I hate it when you do that," she pouted, her lip quivering quickly.

"You were going to get sick," he narrowed his eyes at her.

"I don't get sick," she argued. "You know that!"

"You were getting cold," he rolled his eyes.

"I don't get cold. It was just the wind," she stomped her foot. "I can take care of myself, you know."

He chuckled, knowing well that she would always have a claim to backup her argument. Petty fights like these were almost a small fight for dominance between the two. She knew deep down that he would always be the dominant one, but it was certainly worth a shot for her to show that she took a stand.

"You're angry with me," he noticed when he saw her cheeks flushed and her hands gripped tightly.

"It's the moon," she looked up close towards the sky.

The moon was a brilliant, almost as if it was bleached, white. She sighed, feeling cursed by the moon. With a frown adorned on her face, he took her into his arms again and began walking out towards the woods. They lost track of time and he felt responsible for it. Always, every month, when the moon starts to rise in the sky, he takes her with him towards the mountains and they go through the moon together.

"I'm sorry," he looked down at her fragile face. "It's my fault. I've should have kept track of the time. I'm going to run. Close your eyes."

She squeezed her eyes tightly and felt the wind rushing around her petite frame. Within seconds they were at their usual spot, the moon almost exactly lining up with the holes within the cave. It was blackened by the night surrounding them but a single stream came pouring in from the hole where she usually lay.