Little Red ♥️ and her Wolf 🐺
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Little Red ♥️ and her Wolf 🐺
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He'll huff and he'll puff...and blow all my clothes off 💋
On my sixth reread of The Big Bag Wolf series by Charlie Adhara and I just need more people to read this series 😩😩😩
I have been listening to lestat's music and something I found interesting is that some songs sound like live performances then studio performances like big bad wolf feels like it was recorded in a concert especially because his crashing out then in a studio. Some of the songs has a concert quality to it where it feels recorded in a concert but only the audio was left of it. Its like how artists have their studio version verse live performance version except with lestat the live performance for some songs is the final version. Hit the lights and stain glass eyes have 2 versions where you see both are beautiful and high quality but you can tell one sounds live the other in a studio because how clean and full the audio feels in studio version verses bare bones version sounds more raw. Big bad wolf, black licorice, and why do I have to feel? are songs that feel like live performances recorded rather then a studio recorded version it feels like they mixed some songs to be felt like a live performance in a concert while others had the studio version of it. It's interesting because only a few had live performances in the show others you go off audio like big bad wolf but the one night concert sam did helps give a visual on how that song and crash out would have looked like if lestat had performed it in the show. Its a really fun experience lestat's album that feels like a concert sometimes if you close your eyes to some songs. Its also why I really want another concert or more than 2 👀 with the album so I have a visual to go with these songs. I don't necessarily want big bad wolf being a crash out song lol when he performs it each time but I would like to see what it sounds like without it one night only gave us the crash out version a lowkey version to the original but still a crash out and I wonder what it would be without it. I love to see him perform the songs that didn't get a performance on the show or only a snippet in the show like you can't invest in a album and not have plans for more concerts it be such a waste of hard work and talent. I know amc is a cable/tv network company and concert planning is expensive but lestat got ride or die fans willing to pay for the experience and sam would be totally into it. I just feel my indie artist lestat got more success in real life to make money off it then in the show and amc should be wise and give me a lestat concert.
Totally, anon! I kind of mentioned it in my last reply, but it's been so interesting listening to The Failures again as a whole and really getting to let it breathe as its own narrative and its own sort of adaptation of the book and this story. It's really strong on its own, and it really is fun to see how the show chose to spotlight in it, but also how it kind of exists as multiple artists and artworks in conversation with each other - not just the show with the album and the book, but with previous seasons and the other books too. It's a pretty fascinating and exhilarating exercise in like - - creative collision almost, which really kind of works for a character like Lestat!
And yeah! Daniel's mentioned in interviews that they recorded multiple versions of the songs, and The Failures does seem to be a real amalgamation of that, with some feeling more like live versions even if we didn't see them performed live on the show itself. Big Bad Wolf is definitely a good example of that, and I love your point that getting to see Sam do it in One Night Only kind of gives the impression of what that might've looked like within the show's canon itself. It'll be really interesting to see if they ever do a concert where they perform the whole album, of if they'll cherry pick songs like they did for that? I feel like there's a possibility of it, especially given they were obviously very selective at the Beacon as the season hadn't aired. Fingers crossed they do!
The morning came before its time,
Or so the old trees thought;
For down their silent, winding path
A scarlet figure sought.
No basket swung beside her hand.
No ribbon held her hair.
The hood she wore hung loose behind,
Unheeded by her care.
She neither hummed nor greeted birds,
Nor paused where flowers grew;
She walked as though the forest held
The only road she knew.
The Wolf was far from where she strayed,
Beyond the eastern pine;
She never came at such an hour—
The faultwas not the time.
She walked until the path was gone,
Until the roots grew wild;
She walked beyond remembered turns,
Beyond the woodland's smile.
She walked until her feet grew numb,
Her breath became a plea;
Until her weary, aching legs
Forgot what strength could be.
At last she reached a little glade
Where silver grasses bent;
The earth received her trembling knees
Before her sorrow went.
No whispered prayer escaped her lips.
No name. No cry. No blame.
Only the breaking of a heart
Too tired to do the same.
Her tears fell softly to the moss,
Like rain the leaves had known;
The forest listened, still and deep,
And let her weep alone.
Then somewhere far, a blackbird fled.
The branches snapped in haste.
The woods forgot their patient hush—
A shadow crossed the waste.
He came with all the winter's speed,
His heartbeat loud and wild;
For something in the ancient pines
Had called him to his child.
His amber eyes searched every tree,
Each stone, each patch of snow;
Seeking the hand that dared to wound
The one he cherished so.
Then suddenly...He truly saw.
No hunter stood nearby.
No cruel hand lingered in the glade.
No enemy to defy.
Only the girl beneath the hood,
Her shoulders shaking still;
As though the world had asked of her
Far more than any will.
The anger left him where he stood.
He did not ask her why.
He simply sank upon the earth
Beneath the open sky.
He opened wide his waiting arms.
No word bade her draw near.
He left the choice where it belonged—
With her, and only her.
She looked at him through tear-filled eyes,
As though she'd crossed the sea;
Then all at once the distance broke,
As though she'd been set free.
She fell into his waiting hold
With neither grace nor pride;
Curled small against his sable fur,
And let the world subside.
Her hands clung tightly to his coat,
Her face against his chest;
He wrapped her close with careful arms,
And held what sought its rest.
Long moments passed.
The wind moved on.
The pines forgot to sway.
The forest watched its oldest Wolf
Keep sorrow far away.
At last he bowed his weary head
Until it touched her own.
And in a voice she'd never heard,
So quiet, so certain, he said—
"I've got you. You can let go now."
The woods stood still.
The birds kept watch.
The brook forgot to run.
And all the tears she'd carried there
Were finally no longer one.
- The Silent Writer
The Big Bad Wolf