Bringing back a story from April that I really like.
Riding Red, Part II
The woods aren't as dark as the dovecote. There are doves here, though. They titter to one another, wheeling above the glade where Rosie lays, her hair scattered over the moss.
Rising, she makes her way to the creek, feeling her way along the foreign objects of the ground with bare feet. Sun sparkles on the rocks. Two fat trout laze in the shallows.
Her aunts were wrong. The woods aren't a silent place.
Rosie settles on a boulder, letting the warm water trickle over her feet. Her lips still remember the goodbye kiss he gave her this morning.
"You must be hungry," she teased.
He laughed, squeezing her. "The better to eat you up."
"Eat you up," call the doves, wheeling above her.
Oh, I like how you created a mirror image of the first Red Riding Hood piece. That there's really nothing dangerous about the forest or the wolf, escept for maybe growing up, haha.
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