bloody dog teeth

1

The snow crunched softly under the boots that she wore, pulling the crimson red hood over her head a little bit more, pale lips pursed together softly. At this point, shivers ran softly down the little girl's spine. She was called Red. And she was on the path down to her mother's grave in the middle of winter.

The cloaked girl almost paused when she heard footsteps. She couldn't place where they were. But they were at least somewhere. Red only frowned a little bit, lips a bright red from the pressure, and continued to walk. It was probably nothing. With a small laugh, she mumbled, "I don't know why I'm even worried in the first place." It was silly, honestly, being so scared over what seemed to be nothing. She continued to walk, but the footsteps only continued to happen, which she quickly grew tired of.

"What're you doing out here, little Mädchen?" She knew the irritating German accent of the infamous hunter, Wolf. However, she didn't know the man's first name, nor was she one to care that much. What made Red even more irritated was that the man had the nerve to walk beside her.

"Going to Mother's." Still, she kept a light-hearted tone to her voice, adding a little skip to her step.

This made Wolf's eyebrow raise a little bit. Of course he knew. Everybody did. Everyone knew how Summer, Red's mother, was attacked and killed. She didn't have to throw light upon anything. He took a small breath, maybe not audible to anyone else but the two, "Interesting," was all he said until he folded his arms, the black, fur coat he wore over his shoulders shifting a little bit.

Red sighed, shaking her head a little bit, and pulled her cloack closer. As much as she didn't want to admit it, it was freezing cold. She hated it. Usually, she'd be with her grandmother by now, curling by the fire, and now she can't. Because of this stupid huntsman. "I don't understand why it should be any of your concern, though, kyni̱gós." Even though it meant to be hateful, she kept her voice in the same sweet tone, and the huntsman laughed a little bit, a sound that echoed through the woods. At this, she rolled her eyes, a little bit out of lasting irritation.

"What's with the hate?" The other's voice was filled with genuine curiosity, arching his eyebrow at the little girl that walked beside him.

"Nothing." Was all she said. Then, to the huntsman's slight consternation, she stopped, but he kept walking. That was the first mistake, because she lashed out, suddenly sharper fingernails digging into the other's back, ripping off the fur coat he wore and tossing it to the snow.

The hunstman tensed, attempted to act quickly, and then threw the little girl off, who was on all fours, back arched as she was gasping for air, clothes ripping. He knew what this was, a transformation. Of course. He should've known the Hoods were werewolves. He vaguely remembered running into someone who was transforming into a wolf, just starting the phasing, and killed them. There wasn't any possibility that . . . No, surely that was it.

Wolf looked around, maybe a little bit desperate, before turning his attention to the girl - no, now a complete werewolf, slightly red in color - in front of him and, without any hesitation and maybe a little bit of fear in his eyes, raised the pistol he carried around, and blindly shot. That, sadly, missed her, and he could've sworn that there was a bit of malicious pity in the werewolf's eyes. But that didn't last long because, with a low growl and an arched back, Red moved forward in a vivacious way, getting the other on his back with a more harsh snarl. She snapped, the hunter moving his head back a little bit, swearing that he could see and smell the blood, the sight of it coming from the other's teeth, the smell - who knew where it was from. He wasn't one to ponder that, kicking Red off of him and then raising his pistol to shoot and, without much thought into it, pulled the trigger. The sound was enough to disrupt the birds in the trees, the sound of them fluttering away wildly in packs being masked. "Mein Beileid." He mumbled to himself, shaking his head with a quiet sigh. However, he didn't have time to see the other, much older werewolf hiding in the trees as it lunged at him, teeth digging into his neck and claws into his spine, just enough to dig into the bone.