Red Roses - (FCRAs 2016 Winner)

Bramble

 "Well I admit, it's not what I expected to wake up to."

Lorelie looked up as her Grandmother placed a bowl of milk on the floor and two mugs of tea on the table before sitting down.

Lorelie adjusted the bundle of fur in her arms and set the tiny wolf pup on the floor. He sniffed at the milk for a moment, then plunged his face in and started to drink half of it and spill the rest across himself.

"So, what will you call him?"

"Huh?" Lorelie said, looking at her, startled. "Why would I name it?"

"You'll look after him I assume."

Lorelie started laughing without meaning to. "Look after it?" she copied, "No. There's no way I would look after a wolf. That's insane. One: I can't just take a wild animal in and try and domestic it. Two: it's a wolf. It has a pack, they can take it back."

"Him, dear, he's a boy,"

"Him, it, whatever, it's a wolf. I'm not taking him."

"Then why did you bring him back?"

Lorelie pursed her lips. "I could hardly leave him out there at night. He's just a baby."

Nana May let out a breath and sat back in her seat, looking down at the puppy who had just planted a paw on the edge of the bowl and knocking the whole thing over on top of himself.

Lorelie uncovered him as he started to yelp and he shook himself, spraying her with milk.

"You say his mother was dead?"

Lorelie nodded as she poured some water on a cloth and started to clean the wolf.

"Did she appear to have been killed by another animal?"

"No, it was from a hunter," Lorelie said, "I found broken arrows nearby and the wounds in her matched the heads." She looked up at her grandmother, frowning. "I swear there are more poachers entering these forests lately. Is Lord Luka's importance slipping at court?"

Nana May shrugged. "I doubt it," she said, standing up and returning to the breakfast that had been slowly cooking. "No, I doubt it has anything to do with him. But you're right; poachers are more common these days."

"We need huntsmen again," Lorelie muttered, setting the cloth aside and taking a sip of her tea.

Her grandmother glanced at her as she slipped the eggs and sausages on plates. "The huntsmen are long gone," she said gently, setting Lorelie's breakfast in front of her.

"They can be called back though, can't they?"

Her grandmother laughed slightly. "They are not heroes to be called for when danger approaches. No, the poachers shall be dealt with; we have no need for huntsmen."

Lorelie opened her mouth then looked at the doorway as a sound creaked through the house, like a door opening.

She frowned, right before she launched out of her seat, scaring the puppy, as a wolf trotted it.

Her grandmother looked around then gestured for Lorelie to calm down.

"You've met him before," she said, as if a wolf sat in the kitchen was the most normal thing in the world. "Lorelie, Dover. Dover, Lorelie, play nice."

Dover's attention was caught by the pup however and he sniffed at him. The wolf pup gave a brave – and non-too-threatening – growl, his hair stuck up on end and Dover clearly didn't take kindly to the show of bravery because he growled back and his voice was bone-chilling.