Stories can always change, sometimes the perspective isn't as clear cut as you think.
You might think someone is a villain but there are truly no villains in a story. It is through perspective that we choose good and evil.
The truth is most are morally grey, even if we can't exactly see it. I might toy back and forth with the thought but objection on the matter stands.
Even if you may doubt it.
The witch wasn't always kind, she had ulterior motives, especially to keep up her status. I mean she had to, you don't get where you are by being completely fair after all. So some decisions were made based on expectations and what would make her look the best.
So when a gigantic wolf came limping her way, it wasn't a second thought put into helping him.
Even if he looked terrifying, the amount of credit she would get from him would be impeccable.
So she approached him, with open arms and an open heart, beating like a drum and showing its red character. She waved her mostly decorative wand in the air with a smile, asking, "Do you require assistance?"
The color of the wolf's fur seems to fade between jet black and deep auburn. A scar goes from the top eye to the edge of the neck. It flickers in and out of reality as if fate and magic had hit it at the same time.
She wasn't even sure if it was real, yet she felt compelled to go near it, her instinct screaming for her to run, but her heart knew that this was meant to be.
She crouched down and touched the creature's paw, and he glanced up with open eyes. Her fingers ran through his fur and he jumped back at the touch, "Oh, don't worry I'm not going to hurt you. I only want to help." She stated with a smile, "Don't be afraid, I promise I will not harm you."
The wolf was quiet.
"Will you do any harm if I heal you?" She questioned as the wolf turned his head to the side. "Do you think I will harm you?" Her eyebrows arched, "Well, I don't know that's why I asked."
The witch felt nerves shoot throughout her skin, and that's when the wolf let out a deep chuckle. "Hahaha, I can't do any harm if I'm the one hurt, isn't that right?" She blinked back, "Well, I guess so. Yeah..."
She turned his paw over and waved her fingers over the wound, closing her eyes and whispering a few words. "Heal this vessel, heal this creature, clean its body of any evil."
"Evil?" "Evil." She repeated back, "I know you have some good in you. But I want to make sure that stays."
The wolf blinked back, "Oh, of course..." He looked down to his wounds and they were still there, "I thought you healed me." "I did." "Then why are the wounds still here?" She sighed, "I'll have to take you back to my shop for that, I got rid of the pain but the wounds will take time to disappear."
Time to Disappear
Right now I wish I could disappear, and fade into existence as everything else goes on. Like I was never here, that would be a dream right now but instead, I'm being dragged to the pit.
The witch's den or moreover where the wolf takes his bones, where he buries the ones that he doesn't eat. Leaving their memory to rot in the ground, where their soul will lay to rest.
The cloaked person tossed me in the middle, letting go of my arm and leaving a hidden glare for me too.
The flicks of lights surrounded me and in front was the face of my wicked mother. Not horrified but smiling, with a terrible grin. "I see you ended up following me, daughter. You just can't help but be curious can you?" "I'm sorry, mother," I mutter aloud and she laughs a bit.
"Sorry? No, I thank you." I turn my head to the side, "Thank me?" She nods, taking off her veil, and holding out her hand, "After all." The cloaked person put the letter in her hand. "I would not have got this letter, without your snooping."
She walks over to me, clicking her heels and patting me on the head, "Good job, you aren't a totally useless offspring." My father glared, "Terrible at being sneaky though, can't believe you came from me."
My mother scoffed, "She came from me, you were just a pathetic 23 chromosomes." I glanced at the ground, holding my breath so I wouldn't make eye contact with them. The harsh line echoed through my brain as a few chuckles erupted from the people around me.
"Shut the fuck up! Don't laugh at me, that isn't even fucking funny!" My father yelled as my mother rolled her eyes, "Oh, calm down Reynolds. It's not that serious." "Not that Serious?! They're fucking laughing at me, Regina, in front of our daughter! What example does that set for her?!"
"It reminds her of how pathetic you are and how soon she will surpass you in every way and rid of those pathetic genetics that you tried to pass on to her." I glanced up for a second to hear the sound of a lighter, flick, flick, she lights a cigarette.
"Open the letter for me please." One of the people in a cloak pulls out a letter knife. sharp and thin with the Acres symbol on the end.
Ripppppp, the pretty color faded away with the paper. Torn to shreds within seconds as a thin sheet of silver slipped out. Damn near see-through but the words still hid behind the letter.
My mother held the cigarette in her hand as my father fumed, "Do you think you can get away with talking like that in front of our child!?! In front of these people!?!"
"I just did, now be a good husband, and let me see what's on this letter okay? Then you can continue your pathetic rant." She passes the cigarette to someone next to her and picks up the letter, "Now, let's see."