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The Red Cloak Part 8



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Fri Nov 25, 2011 6:37 am
Leahweird says...



The wolf paused at the threshold of the little house at the edge of town.

“I haven’t been in someone’s home for years. Are you sure this is alright?”

“Don’t be silly. Come in and sit while I get a fire going.”

Soon the room was illuminated by a rosy glow. The wolf obediently made himself comfortable on the rug laid out by the hearth, but he kept a close eye on Marguerite as she assembled materials. When she set down the strips of cherry fabric she planned to use as bandages, he eyed them with great suspicion.

“You didn’t rip up your old cloak to make those, did you?”

“Of course not. This is from a project I’ve been working on. Although, I’m flattered you mistook my work for my grandmother's.” She took a moment to make sure the water she’d heated wasn’t too hot before pouring it into a shallow bowl. “I still miss her.”

“I wish I could have saved her for you,” said the wolf.

“You said it yourself, you didn’t even know she existed,” replied Marguerite, dunking a clean cloth in the steaming water.

“But I might not have...Ow.”

He glared at her, but she continued to wash his paw. She wasn’t quite as worried anymore that he would actually bite her. He never had before, even at his most fierce. In fact, the only person she’d actually seen him attack was Cheyne, and she thought of that as justifiable. Suddenly it occurred to her that they had never been properly introduced.

“My name is Marguerite, by the way. You asked, but I never did tell you.”

He sniffed. “I almost prefer ‘little girl in the red cloak.’”

She smiled as she wrapped a dry cloth around the cut. It amused her that the wolf had been thinking of her in a way that was so close to her childhood nickname.

“But I’m not little anymore.”

“Compared to me? Yes you are.”

She actually laughed at that. “Do you have a name?”

He suddenly looked away from her. The atmosphere grew decidedly cooler as he stared into the flames.

“The Baba Yaga used to call me her Fenris wolf.”

“Was she important to you?”

“She made me what I am.”

Marguerite frowned. “You don’t sound happy about that.”

“I don’t particularly like what I am.”

Marguerite tried to reach out to him, but he was lost in his memories again.

“She did something to me. To make me bigger, meaner.”

“And smarter,” added Marguerite, assuming his ability to talk was part of the magic.

“That too,” he huffed. “When she was gone I tried to go back to my pack, but they wouldn’t let me anywhere near them.”

“That’s awful!”

“It’s not their fault. They couldn’t understand. And it was already too late for me to live that life anyway.”

“So you came back here. Why?”

He actually got up and moved closer to her.

“Because you were the first person I’d ever cared about for my own sake.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and let him lean against her chest.

“Why didn’t you say anything before?”

“You were always running from me,” his voice rasped in her ear. “and with good reason. You thought I killed your grandmother. What would you have done if I showed up at your door?”

“And yet you were always protecting me. I still don’t understand that. I don’t know why you saved me in the first place.”

He paused for a moment considering.

“You were adorable,” he said, surprising her into a laugh.

“I thought we were being serious,” she said, pushing him a little.

“It’s true. You were so good and so sweet. No one had ever been nice to me before, but you gave me a cookie.”

“You looked hungry.”
He made a sound that was so close to a human laugh, she had to smile. Watching his eyes brighten, the idea that was slowing blossoming in her mind suddenly seemed entirely appropriate.

“Your name is Freki now.”

“What? Why Freki?”

“I just like it. It makes you sound less scary.”

“But I am scary.”

She finally gave in to the temptation to scratch his ears. He sighed as she ran her fingers through his silky fur.

“I think we’ve both been tricked into thinking you’re supposed to be frightening. You keep trying to tell me you’re this horrible beast, and maybe you have done things you’re not proud of, but it sounds to me like you didn’t have a choice. Giving you a new name is like letting us have a second chance.”

He put his head in her lap and yawned luxuriantly. “So I’m Freki.”

“Unless you don’t like it.”

“Oh, it’s fine,” he said. “Just don’t stop doing that to my ears.”


Spoiler! :
Yay! At last I got to give Freki his name. I've known it from the beggining, but there just didn't seem to be a good oppurtunity to have it said in context. It was right near the end too... Anyway, Margeurite may have her reasons for picking that name, but I have some of my own. Anyone care to guess? :)
Hope this wasn't too heavy on conversation. The next chapter will have one last action scene, and then we'll be wrapping up!
  





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Fri Nov 25, 2011 11:48 am
barefootrunner says...



That's so cute! I love the new depth to the story and Freki is adorable! The story is very realistic, well reasoned and clear. This is so beautiful - if I had a decoder, I would jump straight into this book and live there forever! Beautiful, tender and truthful, this is a masterpiece. I officially love it!
"Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts" - Einstein
  





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Fri Nov 25, 2011 12:06 pm
Benrobertringrose says...



Hello,

I love this! For me personally in the wolf you’ve created a character that is very likable! For this reason alone I would continue to read, but when you combine it with your elegant use of dialogue and descriptions you’ve really created something special! I can’t wait to read more, I wish I could form the words to illustrate how much I like this! It’s so good!

Ben
  





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Fri Nov 25, 2011 5:06 pm
apple96 says...



Hi Leah,

This made me laugh so much! Especially the last part with the whole scratchng behind the ears . . . I couldn't find anything wrong with it at all. It was perfect! And I'm glad that Freki has a name now! :)

Keep writing I can't wait for more!

- apple96
'Are you saying Ni to that old woman?'
'Yes'
'Oh, what sad times are these when passing ruffians can say Ni at will to old ladies. There is a pestilence upon this land, nothing is sacred. Even those who arrange and design shrubberies are under considerable economic stress in this period in history'
  





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136 Reviews



Gender: Female
Points: 2952
Reviews: 136
Sat Nov 26, 2011 3:58 am
Leahweird says...



Thank you all for your wonderful comments. Espiecially those who took the time to point out my errors. You have no idea how much I apprieciate having people read my stuff.

Now for some shameless self promotion, I'm about to go post the last chapter.
  








"would you still love me if i was a worm" yeah babe i would AND id get you your own compost bin so we could enter gardening competitions together
— Corvid