“Little” Red was no longer little. She had grown into an independent, well groomed maiden (or that is how she saw herself at least). She’d taken on the profession of healer and was studying under an odd wolf named Sambar. While he was quirky and made lame jokes, he was still very nice and incredibly smart. Smarter than Red would ever be, at least.
She knew she needed a profession and when the time came to choose which line of work to go into, she had considered which rank would be... let’s say, the simplest. Of course this is just a polite way of saying “easiest;” or so she thought. She hadn’t realized she would be paired with a brainiac that had a passion for herbs and grass. She spent her days memorizing what plants looked like and their uses, how to care for them, prepare them, store them, and the list goes on. Any time now she was hoping someone would come in brutally wounded just so she’d have something else to do.
What made her day go by faster (and slower at the same time) was the thought of her sweetheart, Lark. The alpha’s favorite son was the apple of her eye and she spent much of her time thinking about him. How handsome he is, how fast, how strong, how talented, charismatic, romantic, funny, the list goes on.
Lark bounded down the dark forest hillside, a bundle of flowers in his maw. He’d just finished training with pack beta Willow Bark and was finally free to go hunting for his favorite companion... Red Herring. Lately, she was all he wanted in his spare time. She was funny, nice to him (in her own way), and man, was she pretty.
He’s keen eyes, quite adjusted to the night, made it easy for him to pick his way along. Hopping over fall logs and rocks, the young, dark male could almost be considered skipping. If wolves could whistle, he’d probably do that too (insert indulgent eye roll or smirk here).
Ah, the sweetness of young love.
“Red?” The male called, plopping himself in front of the dens, his maw smiling and tail wagging.
“Lark!” A muffled cry could be heard from inside the third den. She had been sorting bundles of a certain grass, some being held in her jaws. Red nearly dropped what she was doing in her excitement. Quickly she finished sorting the small amount she had left before she leaped to her feet and made her way to the edge of the cave. Just before Lark came into sight she halted herself, composed her fur by a good shake, and put a collected, ladylike expression on her face.
Slowly, at a comfortable pace, she sauntered to the opening of the den and gave a winning smile. “Lark.” She said his name slowly, in what she hopped sounded like a warm, inviting tone.
It made Lark shudder. “Red.” He said with relief and pleasure. They merely stared into each other’s eyes for several heartbeats before Lark spoke. “Are you.. ah, free? Yet?”
Her smile shifted into one of sweet affection. “Well, ah, yes, I think so. Let me... let me go ask Sam. Just a moment.” With that, she turned on her heels and almost trotted back into the dim cave. A few fires were built deep within to keep the light available to the healers during the night—their regular working hours. Sam was busily bent over something or another when Red coughed a quiet, lady-like sound.
Sam raised his eyes and turned to her with an easy smile. He was older than Red but he was not old enough yet to lose any of his hearing. He knew her beau had arrived, just as he had the last several days Red had worked. With a nod, he returned to his work. “Have a pleasant evening Little Red.”
Her nose wrinkled any time someone used her pet name, “Little Red.” Her father was Red Oak and most often was called by the nickname Red, and thus she inherited “Little” Red as his beloved daughter. It made her feel quite childish, not taken seriously as an adult wolf of the pack.
In this instance, she chose to ignore it and offer her sweetest smile. “Thanks, Sam.”
She was swift in her gate as she reached Lark once more, this time jumping down from the dens mouth, rubbing her head against his chest in affectionate welcome. “Hello.” She all but fluttered her eyebrows as she gave him her warmest welcome.
Lark nudged the bouquet of flowers towards her. “For your studies.” He grinned happily, sure that his thoughtfulness would be well appreciated.
Just as he had expected, her heart fluttered. “T-thank you. They’re beautiful. I’ll take them into the den now.” She quickly snatched up the bouquet and returned the den, placing them in her small work space towards the front. Swiftly, not to waste time, she returned to Lark’s side; maintaining her best lady-like strut as possible.
“And how was your night?” She asked as they began their customary walk through the woods.
Lark, not the chubby child he once was, launched into all the details of hunting techniques, exercises to keep them fit and fighting ready (“You know, we have to be ready to protect the pack just like any protector is!”), and practice practice practice.
Red nodded politely, honestly not finding much interest in hunting or their schooling. “Hmm. How interesting!” she said in what she hopped was a sincere voice.
It satisfied Lark and he beamed merrily. “But enough about me. How was your night?”
Much obliged to have the conversation switched over to her, she puffed up like a nightingale complimented on its feathers. “Oh, me? I’ve been keeping busy, that’s for sure. Sam is a good instructor.” He doesn’t hover and she particularly liked that.
Only mildly jealous, Lark replied with a sniff. “He seems a weird fellow, I know that. He barely talks, and when he does, it's usually something very odd.”
Oddly, Red felt protective of her new mentor. “He’s not that odd. Yes, he can say some weird things… I’ll admit. But he’s very intelligent and you know what they say about intelligent people.”
“What do they say?” Lark asked with a quirked eyebrow.
Red giggled. “I forget. But enough about work!” She swiveled in front of him, crouched like she was ready to pounce. “I want to play!” And with that, she launched herself at Lark in a playful attack.
He responded in kind, and the two spent their “evening” enjoying the other’s company until dawn began to creep up into the sky. And with that, they made their way to their respective nests, excited for the next time they would be together again.
Word Count: 1135