The Curious Boy and the Shape-Shifting Wolf
Once upon a time, in a quiet village nestled at the edge of a dense forest, there lived a young boy who always wore a vibrant red hood. It had been a gift from his mother, and he cherished it so much that he wore it every day—earning him the nickname Red Hood.
One chilly morning, his father called him into the kitchen. “Your grandfather is ill,” he said, handing the boy a basket filled with a bottle of wine and a slice of sweet cherry cake. “I want you to take this to him. But remember—stay on the path. The forest is full of strange things, and not everything is as it seems.”
Red Hood nodded obediently and set off on the trail. But curiosity was a constant companion to the boy, and soon, the colorful foliage, the scent of earth, and the whispers of the trees lured him off the path.
The deeper he went, the stranger the forest became. Towering trees with moss-draped limbs loomed overhead. Mushrooms clustered at their roots, and wildflowers bloomed in scattered patches. Juicy berries gleamed temptingly on tangled bushes. Eventually, Red Hood stumbled upon a glade bathed in soft sunlight. It was there, among the tall grasses and blossoms, that a peculiar figure appeared.
From the shadows emerged a tall woman with sharp eyes and a gliding stride. She seemed to shimmer as she walked, her form fluid like a reflection in rippling water.
“Who are you?” the boy asked, surprised.
“I’m a shape-shifter,” the figure replied with a sly smile. “I’ve been watching you. Where are you headed?”
“To my grandfather’s house,” Red Hood replied, unaware of any danger. “He’s sick, so I’m bringing him some cake and wine.”
The wolf-woman’s eyes glinted. “How kind of you. But don’t you think a few flowers would cheer him up even more? Look how many bloom around you.”
The boy, enchanted by the idea, began picking daisies, violets, and wild lilies, forgetting time and the warning his father had given him. Meanwhile, the shape-shifter vanished into the woods.
By the time Red Hood remembered his errand, the sun was already dipping behind the trees. He hurried back to the path and made his way to his grandfather’s quaint wooden house. He knocked, but there was no answer. The door creaked open under his hand.
Inside, it was dark and oddly silent. His grandfather lay in bed, covers drawn up to his nose, his face mostly hidden. Red Hood approached cautiously.
“Grandfather?” he whispered.
A raspy voice answered, “Hello, my dear.”
Red Hood stepped closer and frowned. “What a high voice you have.”
“All the better to greet you with, my child,” came the reply.
He squinted. “And what big eyes you have!”
“The better to see you with.”
“And such large hands!”
“The better to hug and grab you with!”
Red Hood hesitated, then said in a small voice, “And what a big mouth you have…”
The figure in the bed grinned wickedly, baring rows of sharp teeth.
“The better to eat you with!” she howled—and with a sudden movement, leapt from the bed.
But before she could lunge, the door burst open. The boy’s father, worried by how long his son had taken, had come searching. With swift action, he scared the shape-shifter off into the forest, never to be seen again.
Red Hood hugged his father tightly, realizing that curiosity, though natural, can sometimes lead one astray.
Moral of the Story:
Even the most beautiful places can hide the most dangerous threats. Always listen to the wisdom of those who care for you, and never underestimate the value of caution.
