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Weekly Contest #334
In the bleary darkness of a winter’s morning, each step was an unforgiving tick on the clock of life and death. The forest slumbered, buried by the frost. Beneath paws numb from the cold, the snow crunched faintly as the wolf sniffed hopelessly in search of salvation. A shape moved ahead, hobbling upright on the path that split the trees. The wolf froze still, unnerved by the memory of that two-legged gait. The human wore a cloak of red – not like that of a poppy or a tulip. It was a crimson, deep and dark, much like the warm puddle that h...
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