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“The wolf is carnivore incarnate and he's as cunning as he is ferocious;"

"—once he's had a taste of flesh then nothing else will do.” ― Angela Carter" And when she feels the twines of the forest welcome her, beckoning like a familiar, old friend, Lily indulges with the crimson fabric pulled gently around her small frame – her usual attire of dusty pink replaced by fiery, passionate red. The only reason for it though – was that it was a color that stood out far easier from the backdrop and canopy of green against the lush forestry, and that pink was too muted a color for the wood-hunters who worked for the Cohen Estates to keep tabs on her visibility. Besides, there was a certain element of charm that comes from a small, blonde child seeming as though she had stepped straight out from fairy folklore; a quiet undertone of childhood innocence that encompassed the sight.

One might think – which parents would allow their young daughter (the perceived, only daughter) to venture out into such a world? Was it the understanding that a human should have roots with nature? Or perhaps, some kind of twisted, dark superstition that surrounded anthropoid existence—? That, oh— the forest spirits would protect a child if only she grew to love and respect it the way Mother Nature deserved to be. A sort of exchange, perhaps, (in simpler terms). After all, they didn't want to lose her too. — Unwittingly, Lily stumbles in a moment of absent-mindedness; but the trees shuffle quickly and quietly enough to break her fall with strong, enchanted roots. It folds like a gentle limb around her, propping the child upright while branched leaves curled around her frame and dusted the earth that be-speckled her clothe—. Her eyes flicker upwards in comfort and small hands rest on the rapidly-retreating boughs with a slight murmur of thanks, but the child's attention is fixated elsewhere; on a stone-walled castle.