Everyone's heard the story of Little Red Riding Hood and how she skipped merrily to grandmother's house. She facedthe Big Bad Wolf and was eaten, saved by a passing hunter later who then stuffed the wolf's stomach with rocks. It doesn't matter which version of the story you've heard, just that you know that Little Red's story was not a romance. People have remade it many times, some as romances, but nothing delving into the life of the Wolf himself.

Lores, a tiny forest town on the border of England and Scotland existed back when the Anglo-Saxons still reigned, before William the Conqueror and the Normans took over. Between the 500's (said to be the time of King Arthur) and 1066, England was trapped in a time of myth, fear, superstition and turmoil. It is often said that this was the time of many of today's fairytales such as Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel and Gretel, the Gingerbread Man, and even the Princess and the Frog. Lores was much like Little Red's home of Daggerhorn, with the same superstitions and fears of the outer world. Few ever passed through Lores from the outside world, and even fewer stayed. But no person born there ever seemed to leave for long. It was said magicks bound the people to their home, when it was really loyalty and love.

Lores was a small village of people who all knew and mostly liked one another. There was a blacksmith's shop, a tiny church, stables, a tailor, and a general shop, but those were just about it. Everything else was made by the villagers themselves, traded or bought from one another as well. They all shared several large wells around the village alongside a huge river where salmon were plentiful. Everyone helped everyone else whenever it was needed. But everyone also shared superstitions and fears of witches, werewolves, vampires, dragons, and creatures of death and the devil. All were very Christian, and hated such creatures with a burning passion. When the men would get drunk or overconfident, they'd go out to hunt these creatures and get hurt. Every so often, one or two would die.

The most hated creature, like in Daggerhorn, was the werewolf. Or, werewolves. There were many, living in packs like their wild-animal counterparts, but the more sensible of the village didn't believe it. Only the 'village idiots' and priest believed in such dark things until livestock began disappearing without a trace, not even blood. Left in their place were rare herbs and such that the villagers didn't know how to use and called them dark magicks and witchcraft. They didn't know that whomever was taking the livestock was repaying them with amazing healing herbs and knowledge that only ancient races posessed.

Noemi shivered, swiftly walking down the short cut leading into the forest. She shoved her petite hands into her back pockets, the crunch of early Autumn leaves beneath her feet. The darkness engulfing her every movement didn't seem to bother her any. She was a werewolf, her night vision allowing her to see clearly in the dark. Noemi's main goal was to arrive at her small tree house that she had built for herself as a temporary shelter. However, in the back of her mind, she new the shelter was more than just a barrier from the outside elements. It was a shelter from her last responsibility as a werewolf; to find her seemingly nonexistent soul mate.

{ Noemi's outside appearance appears to be in her 20's. She refuses to tell her true age. Her past is her secret; it'll take much work to release that from her crimson red lips. Short, tousled, raven black hair was one of her many features. Her best feature is her ever changing eye color. Each color represents a different mood. The reason she's so afraid of finding her soul mate is because she's been hurt so many times in her life before. She's been through a lot more than meets the eye. Love her truly, and she will be your loyal wife and companion for all eternity. }

(By the way, Little Red Riding Hood in this story is the female. Noemi is the big bad wolf and also the female.)