The Mirror Perception

Scarlet & the Hunter - Red Riding Hood or Little Red Cap

Once upon a time there lived a young woman named Scarlet. Throughout her village Scarlet was known as a beauty for her charming manners and dark hair which she often covered modestly with a deep, crimson cloak decorated with ebony thread. 

The young woman lived with her  mother at the centre of the village. Scarlet's mother worked tirelessly to scrape together a living since her husband had died. Scarlet on the other hand had no need to work. You see, her father had come from a wealthy family and while Scarlet's grandmother gave no money to her daughter-in-law, the kindly old lady was more than happy to dote on her granddaughter and heiress. It was by this means that Scarlet had acquired her cloak.

It was a fine day when Scarlet turned sixteen and yet the girl was not joyful in the least. Her displeasure was caused by greed. The young woman had expected her grandmother to have passed to the next world by now, not cling to life at such a ripe age. Scarlet could not inherit until her grandmother died and she was so very tired of the village. Constantly she would smile to everyone despite the peasantry being so beneath her. It was simply not fair that beautiful as she was, Scarlet had no means of her own and that she would live in the village with her mother while her grandmother had a manor to herself in the woods.

"It is simply not right," Scarlet muttered beneath her breath, brows furrowing with distaste.

"What is not right, my sweet daughter?" her mother asked kindly while taking two freshly baked loafs from the oven.

"Oh," the young woman sighed, thinking quickly to cover her indiscretion. "It is not right that I have my birthday celebration without my grandmother. Are you sure she is not well enough?"

The woman turned to her daughter and smiled.

"My dear girl," she cooed, brushing a stray lock of dark hair from Scarlet's rounded cheek. "You are so kind to worry about your grandmother on your special day. If you would like, the celebration is not until tonight so you may visit your grandmother to see if she is feeling well."

The young woman smiled brightly outwardly but internally she wished for nothing more than to stay here and pretty herself for the feast. She wanted everyone young man's undivided attention to night.

"Of course I would like to go, mother," Scarlet said sweetly. "But surely I ought to help you prepare for the festivities."

Her mother placed a basket in the young woman's hand with one of the freshly baked loafs. She handed her daughter her crimson riding cloak and led her to the door, calling her farewells and insisting that Scarlet go to her grandmother. With no other choice Scarlet walked into the woods and down the east past to the manor house.

All I will do,  Scarlet thought with a cunning smile, is pick flowers and wander until it is sunset. Then I will return home to the celebration of my coming-of-age.

With this plan in mind, the young woman continued along the path with a smile and a spring in her step. She would neither have to help decorate the village square nor visit with her old hag of a grandmother today. Truly this seemed to be a better birthday than she originally gave it credit.

Eventually Scarlet came upon a patch of flowers. Deep red poppies, azure forget-me-nots and violet lavenders grew in the shade of a thick oak tree. The young woman lay down in the flower bed and looked up to the canopy. Oh how wonderful it would be to spend each day in idleness when she inherited her grandmother's fortune. How much joy there would be without a single responsibility or villager to treat pleasantly. Scarlet sighed contentedly.

The sound of a snapping twig broke the young woman from her musings. Within seconds she was up straight and peering around the oak tree to find the source of the noise. She canned the forest but saw no animal and no man until from behind a tree a while away came a young man with a wolf slung over his right shoulder. Wheat-coloured hair brushed against the young hunter's forehead. On his back was a bow and quiver and strapped to his left thigh was a small blade.