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Madeleine had always been told not to stray from the path.
It was dangerous, her parents told her. The woods were dangerous. The animals were dangerous. There were wolves. There were poisons. There were bears. She was always to wear her red cloak, a colour to scare away the animals. She was always to stay on the path, to make sure that she didn’t get lost or in a dangerous part of the woods. She was always to move quickly to her grandmother’s, and then just as quickly return home. There was no reason to stray, in the woods. There was no purpose to stray, in the woods. There was no time that made it allowed to stray, in the woods.
It was safer, her parents told her. It was safer on the path. It was safer where the roads were, and far away from the depths of the woods. The path was safe, when the woods were not. The path was safe, when the animals were not. The path was safe, when the plants were not. The path had lights, and directions, and the odd sign here and there, even though the words were so faded Madeleine could no longer read them. The path kept Madeleine safe. The red hood kept Madeleine safe. The song that she hummed kept Madeleine safe. That was what her parents told her, and that was what Madeleine believed, every time she went on the path to her grandmother’s house.
It was better, her parents told her. The path was better. The safety was better. While the woods looked beautiful, they were not safe. While the woods looked fun, they were not safe. While the woods looked like a second home, they were not safe. That was what her parents told her. That was what Madeleine told herself. That was what she knew. It would be dumb to stray from the path. It would be reckless to stray from the path. It would be dangerous to stray from the path. The path was what kept Madeleine safe.
Madeleine had never wanted to stray from the path.
She believed her parents. Even when the path was boring, walking the same path every day to see her grandmother. Even when the path was dreary, in comparison to the flowers and grass and animals surrounding it. Even when the path was lonely, walking it every day by herself. She did not stray from the path. Why would she stray from the path? The path was what was keeping her safe, in the woods. The path was what was keeping her alive, in the woods. The path was what was keeping her in the woods. Madeleine would stay on the path. Madeleine would keep her red hood around her shoulders. Madeleine would keep humming the song.
She listened to her parents. Why wouldn’t she listen to her parents? Her parents wanted to keep her safe. Why wouldn’t she trust her parents? Her parents only wanted the best for her. Why wouldn’t she follow her parents' instructions? Her parents loved her. So, Madeleine stayed on the path. She stayed on the path even when her heart urged her to explore the woods. She stayed on the path even when her heart longed to see the flowers closer. She stayed on the path even when her heart wanted to do anything but walk the same path every day, to visit her grandmother.
She obeyed her parents. It was easy to follow the path, Madeleine told herself. They were not asking for much, Madeleine told herself. It was for her own good, Madeleine told herself. It did not matter that Madeleine wanted to go into the woods. It did not matter that Madeleine wanted to know what was deep in the woods, far from the path. It did not matter that Madeleine wanted to learn every single nook and cranny of the woods. Madeleine would listen to her parents. It was simple, to follow the path. It was good, to follow the path. It was right, to follow the path.
Madeleine had always stayed on the path.
That was how it was done. No one ever strayed from the path. Straying from the path was dangerous. Straying from the path was wrong. Straying from the path was an unnecessary risk. Straying from the path was tempting fate. Straying from the path was asking for bad things to happen. So, Madeleine did not stray. She stayed on the path, no matter how much she wanted to stray. She followed the path, even though she was bored and bored and bored. She obeyed the path, like she obeyed her parents. She kept her hood on, even when she was warm, and she stayed on the path even when she didn’t wish to.
That was just how things worked. You stayed on the path. You listened to your parents. You wore the clothes they told you to, you said the things they told you to, you did the tasks they asked of you. There wasn’t any other choice, not for Madeleine. There wasn’t any other option, not for Madeleine. There wasn’t any other way, not for Madeleine. She did as she was told. She did as she was asked. She did as she was needed. She did as she ordered. She did and she did and she did. And, more than anything, Madeleine stayed on the path.
That was how you survived. Life was all about surviving, Madeleine had figured out. It did not matter if Madeleine had fun, delivering supplies to her grandmother’s house. It did not matter if Madeleine had fun, doing her chores. It did not matter if Madeleine had fun, doing the exact same thing every day. What mattered was staying alive. What mattered was staying safe. What mattered was listening to her parents. And her parents wanted her to stay on the path. And her parents wanted her to stay safe. And her parents wanted her to visit her grandmother. So, Madeleine stayed on the path.
Or, she had. Until Madeleine met a wolf.
“Hello,” a voice said. She didn’t look much like a wolf at the time. She just looked like a little girl, with deep brown skin and fluffy brown curls and sweet eyes.
“Hello,” Madeleine said, warily. “Why aren’t you on the path?”
“The path is boring,” the girl said with a pout. “You don’t seem boring. Why are you on the path?”
“I’m going to my grandmother’s house,” Madeleine said. “And I’m following the path.”
“Your grandmother’s house?” The girl asked. “Why?”
Madeleine shrugged. “She’s sick. And old. And she needs food and care. But she lives in the woods, so I come and visit her.”
“You have food?” The girl asked.
“It’s for my grandmother,” Madeleine said. She clutched the basket in her hands closer to her chest.
“You’re telling me you never snuck some food out of the basket before?” The girl asked.
“Well,” Madeleine said. “Maybe once or twice.”
The girl laughed. “I knew you weren’t all that boring.”
“I’m not boring at all, thank you,” Madeleine said.
“Then why do you stay on the path?” The girl asked.
“It’s not safe, straying off the path,” Madeleine parroted from her parents.
The girl shrugged. “If you say so.”
“I’m Madeleine,” she said. She didn’t know why she hadn’t said it before.
“I’m Claudia,” the girl said. And then she smiled, and Madeleine saw her teeth. Her sharp, sharp teeth.
Her heart sped up. Her palms started to sweat. And yet, for some reason, she didn’t run. “You a wolf?” Madeleine asked instead. She didn’t need to ask, not really. She knew.
“You ain’t screaming,” the girl- the wolf- Claudia said. “Why aren’t you screaming?”
“You were right,” Madeleine said. “The path is boring. And you’re not boring.”
“That’s new,” Claudia said. She smiled again, not hiding her teeth at all.
Madeleine talked to a wolf.
The wolf was beautiful. That was undeniable. She was older than she looked, Madeleine learned. But that did not deny the youthful beauty that Claudia possessed. Hair that puffed naturally, like a halo around her head and down to her shoulders, that Madeleine could not help but stare at. Eyes that were too bright, too orange, to be human, and yet the amber colour of them were alluring nonetheless. A smile with teeth like diamonds, and nails like knives. Cheeks that were bright and pink, flushed with blood from people who strayed from the path. Madeleine knew she was beautiful, in spite of her wolfishness. Or perhaps because of her wolfishness.
The wolf was smart. That, Madeleine learned over time. She had a knowledge of the entire sprawling woods. Madeleine knew nothing but the path, but Claudia knew all of it. There was a lake, apparently, far from the path. Mushrooms in all sorts of glorious colours. Caves where bears lay and nests for birds. But she knew other things, too. Things about the world that Madeleine had never known before. And she taught Madeleine, told her everything she knew, just because Madeleine had asked. Her parents never liked her asking questions, and they never dared to answer the ones she did ask. She was starting to believe it was just because they didn’t know.
The wolf was candid. That was something that had been clear since they had first met. She did not hide her true thoughts, not from Madeleine and not from anyone. She was loud and she was uncouth and she was everything that Madeleine’s parents hated in a child. She was brash and she was unwieldy and she was something that inspired Madeleine. She did not care to listen to instructions that she did not like. She did not care to follow rules that did not serve her. She did not care to make herself small, or quiet, or less just because an adult told her to. She was destructive. She was violent. She was Claudia.
Madeleine trusted a wolf.
She had been wary of Claudia, at first. Claudia wasn’t from the village that Madeleine grew up in. Madeleine had always been told to fear anyone not from their village. Claudia never stood on the path. Madeleine had always been told to fear anything that lived off of the path. Claudia was a wolf. Madeleine had always been told to fear wolves. More than anything, Madeleine had been told to fear wolves. Wolves were dangerous. Wolves were predatory. Wolves would eat you up in one bite. Wolves would kill you and anyone you loved. Wolves- wolves- wolves. Never trust a wolf, that was what her village said.
She had trusted Claudia, at some point. Madeleine could say that it had happened suddenly. Madeleine could say that it had been an accident. Madeleine could say that she had been charmed by a wolf, against her will. The truth was, the actual truth, was that Madeleine had trusted Claudia as soon as she had met her. Even when she hadn’t wanted to trust her, she did. It didn’t matter if she was from another village, or if she wasn’t from a village at all. It didn’t matter if she lived off the path in the woods. It didn’t matter if she was a wolf, with sharp claws and fangs and ears that poked out of her beautiful hair. It did not matter, because Madeleine had trusted her as soon as had seen her.
She had utmost faith in Claudia, after a while. Or maybe that was just how long it took her to admit that she trusted Claudia more than she trusted anyone else in the world. But she did, was the thing. She trusted Claudia. She trusted Claudia as she talked with her on the path, day after day. She trusted Claudia as she took more and more time walking to and from her grandmother’s house. She trusted Claudia as she guided Madeleine off the path, to look at wildflowers and bunnies and baby deer. She trusted Claudia as she showed her all the things that Madeleine had been missing from the world. She trusted Claudia, and that was the truth.
Madeleine fell for a wolf.
It was easy to fall for her. Easy to watch Claudia and have her heart skip a beat, not from fear but from another, much more dangerous, emotion. Easy to listen to Claudia talk and fall in love with her soul. Easy to spend time with her and tumble further into feelings. She didn’t know when this had happened, either. Just like she couldn’t deny this, either. Madeleine was in love with a wolf. Not just the girl, either. She was in love with her hair and her laugh and her smile, but she was just as much in love with her claws and her teeth and her ears. She was in love with Claudia’s face, and she was just as in love with Claudia’s face smeared in blood from whatever critter she had fed on. She was in love with her when she was sweet, and she was in love with her when she was vengeful. She was in love with her, and she was in love with her, and she was in love with her.
It was strange, she supposed. Madeleine had never been in love before, not really. She had thought that she had been in love before, but now she was not so certain. And even if she had been in love before, she knew that it would not have felt like this. Nothing would have been able to compare to what Madeleine felt for Claudia. It was not just love, perhaps. It was gratefulness, for being shown what laid beyond the path. It was hope, for a future that Madeleine had never considered for herself before. It was awe, for how strong and brilliant and alive Claudia the wolf was. It was appreciation, for the freedom that Claudia had shown Madeleine. It was love. More than anything, it was love.
It was fate, Madeleine would suppose, if she believed in fate. She wasn’t sure if she did. But she believed in Claudia. She believed in the woods. She believed in the fact that she was in love. Madeleine didn’t need fate, when she had Claudia. Madeleine didn’t need fate, when she had the woods. Madeleine didn’t need fate, when she had love. And she had Claudia. And she had the woods. And she had love. She did not need anything else, when she had Claudia, and the woods, and enough love that it spilled out of her heart and into every other part of her body.
Things changed. And yet it felt like they had always been this way.
“What is that?” Madeleine asked, as she lay on the ground. There had been some sort of animal, running across the ground in front of them.
“That,” Claudia said with a grin. “Is a badger.”
“They’re rather strange looking, aren’t they?” Madeleine asked.
“I guess,” Claudia said. “There are stranger things than badgers, out in the deeper parts of the woods.
“There are?” Madeleine asked, sitting up as quickly as she possibly could. “Show me. You have to show me.”
“Of course,” Claudia said, her teeth as sharp as could be.
Madeleine strayed from the path.
She could not resist it. Not when she had heard Claudia describe just how wonderful life off the path was. Not when straying from the path meant being with Claudia. Not when the woods had been screaming for her, ever since she had entered them. The path had been a comfort to Madeleine, for a long time. The path was safe. The path was easy. The path was simple. The path was what Madeleine was supposed to follow. She was supposed to wear the red cloak. She was supposed to hurry to her grandmother’s and then back home, never lingering in the forest. She was supposed to stay on the path. More than anything, she was supposed to stay on the path.
She did not want to resist it. Not when the forest held so much more potential than the village ever had. Not when Claudia was there, urging her forward. Not when the village was so boring. Not when Claudia promised to keep her safe. Not when the village was feeling more and more like a cage each and every day. Why should she resist the urge to stray from the path? Why should she stop herself from doing what felt so completely and utterly correct? Why should she hide from the wood, when the wood felt so much more like her than the village did?
She did not resist it. Madeleine stepped off the path, one foot at a time. It felt freeing. It felt terrifying. It felt right, in a way that nothing had before. Well, nothing except for when she had first spoken to Claudia. That had felt right, too, just like stepping off the path did. Her heart soared. Her heart sank. She was scared. She was elated. Her parents would hate her. Her parents would never know. She would get hurt. She would never get hurt when Claudia was around. The woods were dangerous. The woods were home. The woods-
Madeleine followed the wolf.
She followed the wolf off the path. Madeleine would follow the wolf anywhere. To her own doom, even. But Claudia did not lead Madeleine to her doom. Instead, she led her to animals. She led her to caves. She led her to waterfalls. She led her to the natural marvels of the woods. She led her to every single thing that Madeleine asked her to. She did not once fear for her life from the wolf. She did not once fear for her life from the woods. She did not once care for her life outside of the wolf and the woods.
She followed the woods down her path of destruction. Claudia fed. She had the teeth of the carnivore, and the claws of a predator. Madeleine knew what those teeth did before Claudia told her. Before Claudia showed her. And yet, Madeleine could not bring herself to care. She could not bring herself to care that she was looking at someone with blood on her face, with bones in her teeth, with kills on her hands. That was what eating was. That was how the life cycle of the forest was. That was how being a wolf worked. And Madeleine would follow Claudia as she killed and feasted and ate, and she would not be scared. She could not be scared.
She followed the wolf anywhere and everywhere she went. There were so many marvels in the forest. Animals to see. Animals to discover. Animals to eat. There were so many places to be explored in the forest. Caves to visit. Rivers to dive into. Cliffs to climb. There were so many adventures to be had in the forest. Berries to eat. Sunsets to see. Crevices to wander. There were so many things to love in the forest. The sun. The plants. The wolf. There were so many things to do in the forest. Whatever Claudia wanted. Whatever Madeleine wanted. Whatever they wanted, forever.
Madeleine never returned home.
Why would she, when she knew what life off the path was like? There was so much to do. There was so much to see. There was so much to know. There was so much to explore. There was so much in the woods. It was a whole new world, off the path. It was a whole new experience, off the path. It was a whole new Madeleine, off the path. It was so much better than life in the village. It was so much better than life alone. It was so much better than life before she had strayed off the path. There were no expectations. There were no chores. There were no painful rules. It was just Madeleine, and the woods, and her wolf. She would never go back.
Why would she, when she knew what freedom tasted like? Madeleine knew now what it felt like to not be burdened by the village, by her parents, by their thoughts. Madeleine knew now what it felt like to only have to worry about herself. Madeleine knew what it felt like to be cared for in a way that her parents never cared for her. Madeleine knew. Madeleine knew, and how could she go back now? She had experienced a freedom that she could have never even conceived of before. She had experienced a life that she could have never even dreamed of before. She had experienced a love that she could never have believed in before. She would never go back.
Why would she, when her parents had denied her this? They had always told her never to stray from the path. They had always told her to wear her red hood. They had always told her to hurry back from grandmother’s house. But why? Why, when the flowers were so beautiful? Why, when the woods were so full of life? Why, when the wolves were so friendly? Why, when life was so vibrant? Why, when love felt this good? Her parents had warned her that the woods were dangerous, but she did not think that was true. It was the village that was dangerous, not her wolf. She would never go back.
She was not upset by that fact. She was the happiest she had ever been, without her village or her parents or her grandmother.
“Do you smell that?” Claudia asked.
“I don’t have your nose,” Madeleine answered. “I can smell nothing but the freshly rained on dirt.”
“There’s someone on the path,” Claudia said with a smile.
“Is that how you knew I was there, then?” Madeleine asked. “You smelt me.”
Claudia nodded.
“And what did I smell like?” Madeleine asked.
“Baked goods,” Claudia said. “And boredom.”
Madeleine could not stifle her laugh. “You could smell my boredom?”
“I can smell a lot of things,” Claudia said. She took a deep sniff. “The person on the path smells like loneliness. And tobacco.”
“Do you want to say hi?” Madeleine asked.
Claudia tilted her head, thinking. “No,” she decided. “I’m happy just where I am.”
“So am I,” Madeleine said with a smile. “So am I.”
Madeleine loved the wolf.
Madeleine was the wolf.
Madeleine loved her life in the woods.