"Little Red" grinned as she chased the wolf through the forest. The axe she'd used against the "big bad wolf" had been too big for her too use permanently, so she'd bought smaller ones. She was carrying one of her favourites now. The wolf she was chasing had been terrorizing the town about fifteen miles behind her. He hadn't eaten anyone yet, but he was showing signs of wanting to.

     She jumped over a log, landing in a crouch. She'd hardness since her grandmother had died, one year after being eaten. She'd become a hunter, one of the elite who protected all the world from them.  The wolves were evil and she knew that now. 

     It had been right years since the fateful journey to her grandmother's house, and as the trees had grown, so had she. She was sixteen, and had traded her red cape, dress, and ballet flats for a red leather jacket, black skinny jeans, and combat boots. She wasn't little anymore. 

     She ran, being suddenly the right, cutting the wolf off. He axe caught the silver wolf at its neck, severing its head. She knelt down and cleaned the axe on its fur. No, she wasn't little anymore.