The Rider of Rosewood
Who's Afraid of the Big Bad Wolf?

She could hardly breathe. She didn’t dare move a muscle. She had no idea what to do in this situation. Should she scream for help? No. That would startle it, and it might attack her.

The wolf stared at her, startled. Then it growled. She slowly took a step backward, trying to retreat to her room.

“Just hand it over and no one has to get hurt,” the wolf snarled.

The wolf was talking! There was a talking wolf in her house! This must all be some kind of awful nightmare. Her heart was pounding so hard her chest felt like it might explode. She wasn’t equipped to fight a wolf, especially one this large. She had to make a run for it. She ran down the hall to her room and the wolf sprinted after her. She entered the room and slammed the door behind her, hitting the wolf in the face.

The wolf violently clawed at the door. What was she going to do now? Her eyes drifted to the open window. Just as she climbed out the window and closed it behind her, the wolf broke down the door and tore through her room, knocking a few shelves over.

She was in way over her head. She ran inside the shed, hoping she could find something that would help her. She was startled by the sound of glass shattering.

The wolf was visible through the cracks in the hastily-built shed. He followed her scent to right outside the shed door. “Listen, I just wanna talk to you,” he growled. “Let me in!”

She held her breath. He had her backed into a corner. She felt through the darkness for anything that might help her. Her old softball bat leaned up against the wall. The wolf paced back and forth, waiting for her to come out. His pale eyes glimmered through the cracks in the shed door. The sun was rising in the distance.

No one beside her and Gran ever came this deep into the forest, and that meant no one was going to come to her aid. She had to strike! She tightly gripped the bat and swung open the door.

“ Burn in hell!”

She stepped outside, but the wolf had seemingly vanished into thin air. She examined the ground, looking for tracks, but there were none. She began to question if this were all a dream, but sure enough, her bedroom window was still broken. How was she going to explain this to Gran?

She trudged into the cabin, defeated. When she arrived, Gran was standing in the kitchen with her arms crossed. “What happened here?”

“You won’t believe this, but there was a wolf in the house and it was talking!”

Gran laughed as she handed her a broom. “I thought you said there were no wolves.” Rosalind was about to argue, but couldn’t come up with the right words to say.

Gran winked at her. “Let’s focus on cleaning up this mess right now. We can worry about talking wolves later.”

Rosalind swept broken shards of glass off of the floor. The beast had made a complete wreck of her room. She spent the next several hours picking up the wolf’s mess until her room finally looked the way it had the day before. She noticed a scrap of paper lying on the floor. It was a note. She promptly picked it up and read it.

Dearest cub,

It has been brought to my attention that you seek a cure for your condition. Honestly, I can’t say I blame you. Most are too weak-minded to handle the power of the gift. I pray you’ll reconsider joining our pack: we could use someone as intelligent as you, but if you must find a cure visit Rosalind Kenneally in Rosewood. She has what you’re looking for, though you may have to pry it from her.

Sincerely,

The Pack Mother.

Why would someone send a wolf after her, saying she had some kind of cure? Who was the Pack Mother? These questions plagued her for the rest of the day.

She threw on her favorite red hoodie and went to Mr. Fowler’s house, hoping that practicing archery would help her clear her head. When she arrived, the bow and arrows were sitting on a picnic table with a note attached.

Dear Rosalind,

I’m sorry that I can’t be here today. I was invited on a last-minute hunting trip with some new friends of mine. Feel free to use whatever you’d like while I’m gone. You can ask Theo if you need anything.

-Mr. Fowler.

She grabbed the bow and threw the quiver over her shoulder, then marched to the shooting range. She zeroed in on the center of the first target. Her mind wandered to the thought of her mom.

Every time Rosalind tried to connect with her mother, she’d push her aside or bury herself in her work or ask her why she couldn’t be more like her brother. Her blood boiled as she pulled back her bowstring. She never wanted to see her again. She released her grip, sending the arrow flying into the target. The arrow landed in a ring a few inches away from the bullseye. It wasn’t a terrible shot for someone out of practice.

She continued to practice until she ran out of arrows, hitting a few bullseyes along the way. She gathered her arrows, then lined up her next shot.

“You’re pretty good at this,” She was startled by a voice coming from the tree behind her, causing her to completely miss the target. She looked up to see Theo sitting on a nearby tree branch with an open book in his hands.

“You scared me! I could have hit something!” She said, gesturing towards the arrow that was now lost in the tall grass.

“My apologies.” His voice was reduced to a timid whisper. He slammed his book shut, and the cover became visible. Pride and Prejudice.

“Don’t worry about it.” She felt a twinge of guilt in her chest. She always had a hard time keeping her emotions in check. She attempted to change the subject. “Why are you sitting in a tree?”

“I’m hiding from my mom,” Theo confessed.

“Why would you do that? She seems nice to me.”

“Well, you don’t know her as well as I do.” He grimaced.

What was that supposed to mean? Is he being abused? She must have been lost in her thoughts for a while, because Theo snapped his fingers near her ear. “Hello, earth to Rosalind, are you still there?”

She snapped out of her daze. “Oh, sorry, I was distracted for a moment.”

“What were you thinking about?” he asked.

She frantically tried to come up with a lie. Her eyes landed on the cover of his book. She pointed to the novel. “I didn’t peg you as a Pride and Prejudice type guy.”

“I’m a sucker for the classics.” An amused smirk spread across his lips. “Why didn’t you think I was a pride and prejudice kind of a guy?”

“You seemed pretty repulsed by the idea of romance yesterday,” she replied.

“Are you referring to my mother’s flirting?” He rolled his eyes. “She doesn’t even love him, she’s just using him, and he’s too infatuated with her to know the difference.” Theo kept a level tone, but she sensed the bitterness in his voice.

She tossed the bow to him. “Do you want to try your shot?” she suggested, trying to cheer him up. He nervously glanced between her and the house. After a few moments of contemplation he nodded and hopped down from the tree.

“Have you ever used a bow before?” she asked him.

“No, but there’s a first time for everything, I suppose.”

“The first thing you need to do is, spread your feet apart. The wider your stance is the sturdier you’ll be.” She placed her hands on top of his. “Now, grip the bow with your left hand and pull back with your right.” His form was decent, but he was completely stiff. “You need to relax.”

“I am perfectly relaxed,” he argued.

“Take a deep breath and close your eyes,” she instructed.

He did as he was instructed. “I hope you’re right about this.”

She adjusted his aim from behind. “Now, let go.”

He hesitated for a brief moment, then released his grip. The arrow landed in the third ring from the center, not a bad shot for his first time.

“How did I do?” Theo asked, with his eyes still closed.

“See for yourself,” Rosalind invited.

His eyes lit up with joy. “I hit it! I actually hit the target!” He made no attempt to hide his excitement. His arrow was far from the center, but he did, in fact, hit the target.

The duo spent the next hour on the shooting range. “I am in no rush to return to my mom. Why don’t we hang out a bit longer? I know of a trail in the forest with a perfect view,” Theo invited her after they finished cleaning.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” The thought of wandering through the forest by themselves sent chills down her spine. “I don’t feel safe strolling through the woods with this killer wolf on the loose. Plus, I barely know you.”

“I respect your decision,” he conceded.

They sat in silence for nearly an eternity, but it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was a reassuring one. She finally broke the silence. “This is gonna sound crazy, but the wolf was in my house last night, and it could talk.”

Theo picked at his nails. “Did it have anything interesting to say?” he said in a tone that almost sounded sincere.

“I guess it wanted something from me,” she said, uncertain.

“Why didn’t you just give it what it wanted?” he asked.

“Because I don’t know what it wants!” she cried out, frustrated.

Theo went quiet for a moment, then he spoke. “You have no idea what it was looking for?”

She shook her head. Theo pulled something out of his pocket. “Pardon me. I need to make a phone call.”

Theo walked until he was out of earshot, then dialed a number into his phone. Rosalind respected his privacy and didn’t try to eavesdrop. She grabbed the bow and arrows and went into the house to put them away.

Charlotte was standing in the kitchen. “Rosalind, what a pleasant surprise!” Her collection of bottles had grown significantly larger since the day before. “You haven’t seen Theo, have you?”

“Nope, I haven’t seen him,” she lied.

“He’s probably hiding again,” Charlotte sighed. “What brings you here?”

She held up the bow. “I was wondering where I should put this.”

Charlotte laughed. “Oh, that old thing. You can put that in the basement.”

She fiddled with the bowstring. “Um, Mr. Fowler usually tells me to put these in the garage or the shed.”

Charlotte’s lips formed a tight grimace. “He’s reorganizing.”

Rosalind didn’t argue further.

The basement stairs creaked as she stepped down. They felt like they would collapse under her weight. When she reached the bottom step, the door slammed behind her. She dropped the bow, then ran back up the stairs and frantically tried to open the door. It was locked!

Rosalind started banging on the door. “This isn’t funny! Let me out!” She could see Charlotte’s slim figure through the keyhole saying, “I don’t care how long it takes, I’ll keep you in here until you hand over the cure!”

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