Welcome to my story for this month’s Scrivener’s writing exercise. Thank you to Neil MacDonald for continuing to host these exercises. This month’s really set my imagination free. Please click Here to get all the information on the monthly writing tasks.
Briefly and in Neil’s words here was the task –
Rewrite a well-known fairy tale or legend from the viewpoint of the bad guy. Remember, bad guys rarely believe they’re bad guys and have their own reasons for behaving as they do. Make your point-of-view character believable.
Now for my story –
The Wolf and Little Red Riding Hood
Approaching the pack meant death. Aisha hunched down deep into the thickets. Her fall from alpha female to banished one had happened in the blink of an eye. Her injured leg had made her an ineffective hunter, a burden on the pack, an easy mark. Her fate was sealed when alpha male Mateji turned his back as Sekai approached hackles raised teeth bared. Sekai was younger and quick to attack. Her first lunge, ripped fur from her throat. Rather than fight the stronger she-wolf, risking injury to a strong provider for the pack and her own death, Aisha had dropped her head, lowered her tail and limped away. For weeks she had listened to her packs nightly calls organizing their hunt. Instinct drove her to follow them as they traveled across miles. The distance between the swift moving pack and Aisha increased until their calls where faint and distant.
She gave up her pursuit and slunk into an abandoned burrow where at one time she had given birth to four cubs. It had been days since she had stumbled upon a wounded rabbit. Her stomach rumbled with hunger. Her leg no longer sent waves of pain through her body but wouldn’t support her weight, making it impossible to spring on any prey. Weak and trembling, the once proud wolf huddled in the rocky shelter. Days and nights lost to the darkness. A soft melodic noise floated through the air. Fear coursed through her veins when she recognized it – a human. Aisha lay still knowing that humans had little sense of smell. She waited for the human’s sound to flow into the distance. Instead it became louder increasing her fear. Soon it was accompanied by the rustling of leaves and thumps of footsteps. The footsteps achingly close.
Curiosity and hunger forced her to investigate. Slowly she edged her head into the forest punctured with shafts of daylight. Alarms were ringing in the recesses of her mind. Daylight, not a time to hunt. Ignoring the warning, the nervous wolf edged out further. A clattering of branches to her left implored her to look. Her body tensed ready to fight, her injury making fleeing impossible. Her sharp mind quickly absorbed the details of her foe. A she-cub was bent over an array of brightly colored flowers. The cub clutched a handful of flowers in one paw, a large brown object in the other. It was mewing as it plucked more flowers.
“Run!” Aisha’s mind screamed.
“She’s alone and a mere cub.” Her stomach counseled.
Heartbeats passed. Aisha torn with indecision followed the cub as it scampered through the forest. Stealthily she closed the distance. The growl of her hunger overtaking the caution of her mind. The light shifted abruptly. The forest and its protective cover was thinning.
“Now, pounce now,” her stomach urged.
Aisha tensed her muscles in preparation to spring. Her injured leg collapsed. She tumbled face first into the dirt. By the time she regained her feet all she could she was a flash of red as the cub left the forest and sprinted across a meadow. Aisha crept to the edge of the meadow and watched her prey. Her stomach roared at the loss. Her mind was still fixed on the she-cub as it reached a den. The squeals from the old one and the jumping with joy from the cub reminded Aisha of the games she had once played with her cubs. Her babies were now miles and miles away. Her heartbreak at the loss of her pups and her pack coursed through her making it hard to breath.
A series of short barks from the humans drew her from her dark thoughts. Aisha, shook her head and turned away from them. She would not steel this cub from its elder.
Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed my version of this classic story. Please click HERE to read other responses to Scrivener’s Forge – POV.