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picture_prompt_funTitle: Gift From and of the Forest
Author: Katya Starling
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Red
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt: Picture 149:
and Lands of Magic: Challenge 601: Monthly Writing Challenge: March: Female Main Character
Word Count: 1,506
Date Written: 21 March 2020
Warnings: AU
Summary: Red gives back to the forest that gives so much to her.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
Red stopped running at last. She wasn't really out of breath, though she was gasping a little and her ribs were definitely aware that she had just ran nonstop over miles of forest. It was a wonder she hadn't turned her ankle at some point, with as many holes as had unexpectedly appeared in the path she'd made, but she knew this forest well. She had known it since she was a girl, which was exactly why she'd stopped running. She was deep in the forest, true, but it wouldn't hurt to be deeper still with the enemy from whom she was running.
It wasn't necessary, though. She was in a good spot, and she knew exactly where she was -- and exactly which way to go, should she need to further escape her enemy. She doubted she would, though. Most humans would give up before coming this far over such a trivial matter. They didn't know or trust the woods like she did, especially these woods, where spirits and other creatures walked, wizards were known to cavort, and wolves howled both day and night. Red wasn't scared, though; she had not been scared in this forest since she'd been a mere slip of a child.
Instead she eased her breathing and stood, looking around at the tall trees. She felt so dwarfed by their enormous height that it was easy to imagine that these regal beings had stood here for centuries on end. Despite what others said, she knew the trees had souls. She could feel it every time she touched the bark of any tree in this Enchanted Forest, but right now, just standing and looking at the towering pines gave her the sense both of being watched and being protected. There were spirits in these trees, but as long as they were treated with respect and kindness, they were good spirits who would return the same respect and kindness, unlike, Red knew, so many other creatures, humans included.
It was a human being from whom she was running now, as a matter of fact, a huntsman who wanted to kill her for spooking his prey. She'd gladly warn the deer a hundred times over, though, for it had only been a baby and his mother and the huntsman had been after them for the supposed sport of the kill. He'd certainly not needed to eat and could instead stand to lose a few dozen pounds. She giggled at the idea of being able to tell the Queen's Royal Huntsman that very thing, then hid her smiling mouth behind her hand as the sound echoed in the quiet forest.
Some would call the stillness on the air a deathly quiet, but she wasn't one of those humans either. She knew this quietness. It was a quiet peace that settled over the place, a quietness that came from being undisturbed by humankind for a good, long while yet, Red knew, never long enough. Humans would always come trampling along eventually and destroy, or at least try as the Huntsman had earlier to destroy, everything peaceful, innocent, and good in their path. They blamed the wolves for so many deaths, but at least the wolves only killed to eat. Humans had once upon a time, she supposed, but for a while, they'd also been doing it for the "sport".
There was nothing Red hated more than coming across the body of an innocent animal, whatever the species, who had been killed simply for the act of killing itself. Her blood boiled whenever she thought about it, and she thought about it now, remembering back again to the Huntsman and the deer he'd had targeted. His simple, human mind could not have known, or would have believed, that that deer was royalty, but it didn't matter that the baby had been the son of the Great Prince who'd been killed by the same hunter just last week. It was a baby; that was all Red really cared about, that and the fact that she'd known the Huntsman had been aiming to gun the animal child down for the supposed fun of the slaying of innocence.
Red's fingers curled as she turned back toward the direction from whence she'd just ran. She shouldn't have run, she thought suddenly, her fingernails biting into the tender flesh of her palms. She should have taught that Huntsman a lesson. She should have shown him what animals -- truly vicious animals, that was -- were capable of doing. At the very least, she should have made it to where he could never taken an innocent life for fun ever again.
She realized that the breeze now whistling through the trees was much more than that. It was a thousand voices crying out and mingling into one as they did so. It was the voice of the baby deer and its mother, and of the Great Prince who'd been killed before he could see his son take reign. It was the voice of the mother squirrel who was working twice as hard to provide for her babies now that their father was gone. It was every momma bird who had mysteriously lost an egg or a hatchling from her nest. It was mothers and fathers who had lost children, brothers and sisters who had lost siblings, children who would never know their parents . . . It was the souls of animals crying out for help because of things like the Huntsman, who wore their human skins as mantles to get away with the killing the Demons inside of them yearned to do and far too often actually succeeded in doing.
Somewhere in their cries, she heard a howl, and Red threw back her head, howling in return before she could stop herself. Her Peter, her very own mate, had been killed by such a Huntsman. She knew they'd been young, but there was no doubt in her heart that they had been destined to be mates. So what was she doing running from one who would have gladly killed him if he'd still lived?
Then, suddenly, the trees seemed to part before her very eyesight and Red saw him -- not the Huntsman and all his cruelty, but her Peter, her very own, beloved, cherished Peter. He was reaching for her, his steady eyes closing the distance that parted them, as thick, black fur grew over his handsome face. Red's heart surged. This was the very spot where he'd first kissed her, and in this circle of ancient trees, she'd always felt anything was possible. They both had. Right now, looking again at him, seeing him seem so very much alive, she knew they'd been right. Anything was possible, and in this forest existed such strong magic as to give a girl her fondest wish, . . . especially if she did something in return for it and its other inhabitants.
Red howled again, and this time, her beloved Peter joined in the cry. They transformed completely with all the swiftness of a wolf running through the forest, and then they thrashed through the forest, side by side. It took her even less time to find the Huntsman again than it had to lose him in the first place; only, this time, she had no intention of losing him. She gave him the merest flash of a warning, baring her teeth, lashing her tail, and ruffling her thick, gray coat which Mother Nature had given her. It was brief, all happening in a space no greater than a single heartbeat, but it was still more of a warning than the bastard had intended to give the fawn and his mother.
He raised his gun as she sprang, but her powerful, hind legs kicked the weapon smoothly out of his grasp. He succeeded in firing one bullet off, but it spiraled harmlessly through the trees, who, Red could almost swear, leaned out of the way of the red-hot bullet. She had no more time to watch the old beings, though, as she fell onto the Huntsman, snarling and biting and, ultimately, ripping his throat out. It was only when she finally realized that he was no longer moving underneath her paws that Red stopped viciously trysting her body from side to side and gnawing at the human's neck. She turned, spitting his blood and bone onto the forest ground.
Peter's eyes caught hers. He stood between two ancient trees, looking directly at her and waiting patiently. She paused, held completely still by doubt for one, long minute. Then, slowly, she padded over to him and offered her nose. It was no ghost with whom she was met, nor did her nose go straight through the other wolf. Instead a warm, black nose met hers, and a bright, pink tongue flicked out and licked her furry cheek. Thank you, the whole forest seemed to sing as the wolves frolicked together again at long last and right off into their very own happily ever after.
The End
Author: Katya Starling
Fandom: Once Upon A Time
Characters/Pairing: Peter/Red
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt: Picture 149:
and Lands of Magic: Challenge 601: Monthly Writing Challenge: March: Female Main CharacterWord Count: 1,506
Date Written: 21 March 2020
Warnings: AU
Summary: Red gives back to the forest that gives so much to her.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
Red stopped running at last. She wasn't really out of breath, though she was gasping a little and her ribs were definitely aware that she had just ran nonstop over miles of forest. It was a wonder she hadn't turned her ankle at some point, with as many holes as had unexpectedly appeared in the path she'd made, but she knew this forest well. She had known it since she was a girl, which was exactly why she'd stopped running. She was deep in the forest, true, but it wouldn't hurt to be deeper still with the enemy from whom she was running.
It wasn't necessary, though. She was in a good spot, and she knew exactly where she was -- and exactly which way to go, should she need to further escape her enemy. She doubted she would, though. Most humans would give up before coming this far over such a trivial matter. They didn't know or trust the woods like she did, especially these woods, where spirits and other creatures walked, wizards were known to cavort, and wolves howled both day and night. Red wasn't scared, though; she had not been scared in this forest since she'd been a mere slip of a child.
Instead she eased her breathing and stood, looking around at the tall trees. She felt so dwarfed by their enormous height that it was easy to imagine that these regal beings had stood here for centuries on end. Despite what others said, she knew the trees had souls. She could feel it every time she touched the bark of any tree in this Enchanted Forest, but right now, just standing and looking at the towering pines gave her the sense both of being watched and being protected. There were spirits in these trees, but as long as they were treated with respect and kindness, they were good spirits who would return the same respect and kindness, unlike, Red knew, so many other creatures, humans included.
It was a human being from whom she was running now, as a matter of fact, a huntsman who wanted to kill her for spooking his prey. She'd gladly warn the deer a hundred times over, though, for it had only been a baby and his mother and the huntsman had been after them for the supposed sport of the kill. He'd certainly not needed to eat and could instead stand to lose a few dozen pounds. She giggled at the idea of being able to tell the Queen's Royal Huntsman that very thing, then hid her smiling mouth behind her hand as the sound echoed in the quiet forest.
Some would call the stillness on the air a deathly quiet, but she wasn't one of those humans either. She knew this quietness. It was a quiet peace that settled over the place, a quietness that came from being undisturbed by humankind for a good, long while yet, Red knew, never long enough. Humans would always come trampling along eventually and destroy, or at least try as the Huntsman had earlier to destroy, everything peaceful, innocent, and good in their path. They blamed the wolves for so many deaths, but at least the wolves only killed to eat. Humans had once upon a time, she supposed, but for a while, they'd also been doing it for the "sport".
There was nothing Red hated more than coming across the body of an innocent animal, whatever the species, who had been killed simply for the act of killing itself. Her blood boiled whenever she thought about it, and she thought about it now, remembering back again to the Huntsman and the deer he'd had targeted. His simple, human mind could not have known, or would have believed, that that deer was royalty, but it didn't matter that the baby had been the son of the Great Prince who'd been killed by the same hunter just last week. It was a baby; that was all Red really cared about, that and the fact that she'd known the Huntsman had been aiming to gun the animal child down for the supposed fun of the slaying of innocence.
Red's fingers curled as she turned back toward the direction from whence she'd just ran. She shouldn't have run, she thought suddenly, her fingernails biting into the tender flesh of her palms. She should have taught that Huntsman a lesson. She should have shown him what animals -- truly vicious animals, that was -- were capable of doing. At the very least, she should have made it to where he could never taken an innocent life for fun ever again.
She realized that the breeze now whistling through the trees was much more than that. It was a thousand voices crying out and mingling into one as they did so. It was the voice of the baby deer and its mother, and of the Great Prince who'd been killed before he could see his son take reign. It was the voice of the mother squirrel who was working twice as hard to provide for her babies now that their father was gone. It was every momma bird who had mysteriously lost an egg or a hatchling from her nest. It was mothers and fathers who had lost children, brothers and sisters who had lost siblings, children who would never know their parents . . . It was the souls of animals crying out for help because of things like the Huntsman, who wore their human skins as mantles to get away with the killing the Demons inside of them yearned to do and far too often actually succeeded in doing.
Somewhere in their cries, she heard a howl, and Red threw back her head, howling in return before she could stop herself. Her Peter, her very own mate, had been killed by such a Huntsman. She knew they'd been young, but there was no doubt in her heart that they had been destined to be mates. So what was she doing running from one who would have gladly killed him if he'd still lived?
Then, suddenly, the trees seemed to part before her very eyesight and Red saw him -- not the Huntsman and all his cruelty, but her Peter, her very own, beloved, cherished Peter. He was reaching for her, his steady eyes closing the distance that parted them, as thick, black fur grew over his handsome face. Red's heart surged. This was the very spot where he'd first kissed her, and in this circle of ancient trees, she'd always felt anything was possible. They both had. Right now, looking again at him, seeing him seem so very much alive, she knew they'd been right. Anything was possible, and in this forest existed such strong magic as to give a girl her fondest wish, . . . especially if she did something in return for it and its other inhabitants.
Red howled again, and this time, her beloved Peter joined in the cry. They transformed completely with all the swiftness of a wolf running through the forest, and then they thrashed through the forest, side by side. It took her even less time to find the Huntsman again than it had to lose him in the first place; only, this time, she had no intention of losing him. She gave him the merest flash of a warning, baring her teeth, lashing her tail, and ruffling her thick, gray coat which Mother Nature had given her. It was brief, all happening in a space no greater than a single heartbeat, but it was still more of a warning than the bastard had intended to give the fawn and his mother.
He raised his gun as she sprang, but her powerful, hind legs kicked the weapon smoothly out of his grasp. He succeeded in firing one bullet off, but it spiraled harmlessly through the trees, who, Red could almost swear, leaned out of the way of the red-hot bullet. She had no more time to watch the old beings, though, as she fell onto the Huntsman, snarling and biting and, ultimately, ripping his throat out. It was only when she finally realized that he was no longer moving underneath her paws that Red stopped viciously trysting her body from side to side and gnawing at the human's neck. She turned, spitting his blood and bone onto the forest ground.
Peter's eyes caught hers. He stood between two ancient trees, looking directly at her and waiting patiently. She paused, held completely still by doubt for one, long minute. Then, slowly, she padded over to him and offered her nose. It was no ghost with whom she was met, nor did her nose go straight through the other wolf. Instead a warm, black nose met hers, and a bright, pink tongue flicked out and licked her furry cheek. Thank you, the whole forest seemed to sing as the wolves frolicked together again at long last and right off into their very own happily ever after.
The End
