Little Miss Hood

Chapter Three

Ciel woke up in the middle of the night to a loud cry. He heard a wolf's wailing in the distance. He shook his head and laid back down. No, it couldn't be. It wasn't Sebastian. Why would Sebastian be injured? He closed his eyes only to see images and images of a wolf bleeding out in the woods. Ciel sat up. He stared out the window. The moon was full and bright. Surely he could just walk out into the woods for a second to check and make sure Sebastian was fine. It would only take a moment.

He grabbed his cloak and threw it on before rushing out of the manor and to the edge of the estate. He took a deep breath before stepping over the invisible line. He walked through the woods, in the direction he'd thought he'd heard the noise. Ciel looked over his shoulders many times. He tried his best to be aware of his surroundings.

"I don't see any injured wolves," Ciel breathed a sigh of relief. In the corner of his eye he saw two glowing yellowish green eyes staring back at him. Then there was another set. Finally, red ones appeared before him.

Teeth bared and snarling, the red eyes got closer. A giant black wolf lurked in the shadows of the trees. Ciel was too shocked to move a muscle. He stood staring at the wolf, while the other two got closer and closer. He was now in the center of a wolf triangle.

"Say, it's a bit dark out, isn't it? I don't think I can see very well. Is that cloak a color?" the set of eyes on his left belonged to a wolf with a red coat just as brilliant as his own cloak. A red wolf. A blonde wolf on his right. A black wolf in front of him.

"You're right, it's too dark to tell underneath these trees. It could be blue, purple, maybe even green," the blonde wolf said.

"In that case, if we attack this human no one can fault us. Isn't that right? Because, after all, the cloak isn't red..." the red wolf raised his paw. Fangs bared and eyes glaring. Ciel closed his eyes in preparation for the strike. He should've expected this. Why did he think he was invincible with this cloak? He braced himself, ready to be struck, when he heard a voice.

...

Vincent woke up in his bed with a feeling of intense dread. His heart ached and his body sweat. There was something wrong. His fatherly instinct was kicking in. There was something incredibly wrong. He hadn't heard the wolf's wail in the distance when it had happened...but he did smell the lingering scent of injury.

He got out of his bed and ran outside. As fast as he could. He went in the direction he saw footprints. He stopped, at the edge of his estate, and stared out into the woods. He was a great tracker, the best of the best, but what use was that if he couldn't leave this place? He reached out his hand. The invisible line turned into an invisible barrier. Something that only he would have difficulty crossing. His hand simply resting on this barrier caused an insane amount of pain to travel up his arm. He winced.

"I can't stay here," Vincent said. "Please, make an exception. I have to save my son," he pleaded with his curse, as if that would do anything.

Vincent removed his hand. The feeling of dread only increased. He had to leave. He had to. He turned back to face the manor. Each step he took towards it only made the feeling worse. He promptly turned on his heel, ran towards the barrier, broke through it despite the agonizing pain and followed the trail left by his son. He ran as fast as his limbs could carry him. He gritted his teeth and fought through the pain. His limbs felt as if they'd been torn off and sewn back on with a thread of electricity. The barrier that was invisible was now reaching up to the sky in a beam of light, purely visible, warning all wolves that he had broken his deal.

The father moved as fast as his broken body would allow. Why had his son been so stupid? Couldn't he have just stayed back? But, no, he couldn't have. He wasn't that smart.