Origin

This tale begins a long time ago in an enchanted region called Forevervill, a land that has styles of light and dark influences.

Within the forestry occupying its various cavities there exists a cabin belonging to a beauty known as Little Red and this my dear friend is her account of what transpired during this unusual period in her life.

So it begins within this wonderful district containing broad terrains that encompass the market known as Fairview, which is conveniently stationed smack-bang in the middle of all the lush greenery.

Daily, waves of activities take place, and in a zone where the majority of villagers can travel on foot, it's a prize for all who are lucky enough to reside here.

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During this particular first blush, a young maiden of twenty, called Red Lange is about to stretch her legs accompanied by her mother Inge, a severe sort of woman who would intimidate the strongest of folks.

When Red looks outside at the fertile grass sprinkled with glistening drops of dew it pushes her to select a long scarlet cloak to wear as it drapes her form and ribbons below her chin to keep her warm on this presumably chilly morn.

They decide to take a stroll to the mart and stop at the first booth they see along their route.

They arrive quickly after a brisk walk to the market and the first stop is the greengrocer's stall which usually overflows with various hues of juicy apples and freshly grown vegetables from his garden. The owner with his silver mustache stands in the center as he folds his arms upon his apron. He is excessively focused on the fruits to notice anything else, so they move to the next stall.

When the women reach the next carriage there are previously plucked chickens hanging and Otis the butcher pulverizes additional meats with his hefty chopper. They look on in disgust and they move along immediately.

As they advance towards the fishmonger their nostrils detect a pungent whiff of seafood and Mrs. Lange voices her opinion at top volume,  "How sickening", as her fingers pinch on the bridge of her scrunched-up nose.

Fortunately for them at that very moment, the breeze brought along the most pleasant aroma of freshly baked bread as that rancid odor of fish was trying its utmost best to orbit around them.

Red lightly tugs her mother's arm to let her know it's time to move along to the next cart as that stinky fish is making her nauseous. Her mama strolls in the other direction ignoring her daughter and continues on a shopping adventure of her own.

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Certain areas of this region give off infusions of sweaty society, equine poop, and a whiff of soil as the sexy Red parades from vendor to vendor and watch from the corner of her eyes to catch a glimpse of every leer from the majority of people there.

Her raven locks plummet down to her midsection, and her constellation-blue gazes entice beyond belief.

A certain individual named Jack the woodcutter's apprentice is transfixed with her magnificence and as her magma-red robe accumulates on the ground, she sashays toward him keeping eye contact with him the entire time.

In a husky voice and with flushed cheeks he says, "Good morrow, Mistress Red, how do you fare" as he can feel the shock waves surge through his being and her visions penetrate his soul.

Her feathery lashes flutter as she responds in her sultry pitch, " I am truly well my own Jack, meet me at our special place later, I require thy service", now her vocals turn to a whisper as she puckers her sensual lips.

Jack's body stiffens like a marble monument. His russet complexion streaks with crimson pigment as she transitions closer to his body. She's so tempted to caress him; as he edges closer to her showcasing his divine muscles.

Those mysterious syrup-colored eyes of his increase as she nears and his nether region swells as the linen nearly shreds.

The diction from his beautiful mouth says in a raspy voice, "Very well mine own petal before the traveling lamp recedes, I shalt join you",  as his strong forefinger skims her cheek and her eyes close to sense the warmth that free transfers between the two.

With her rose-colored lips, she replies sweetly, "Later my love"

He responds with a slight stutter "Y-yes, d-dear" as their fingers brush and his orbs follow her curvaceous shape. That tongue of his practically hangs out as she glides forth.

Mrs. Inge has a displeased stare as she notices the intimacy and sternly calls out for her daughter, "Red receive a move on, father awaits our arrival", a pleat forges as it hoods her ravines and an irate accent materializes.

Red capers towards her mother and says "Aye, mother" as her basket dangles on her forearm with the freshly baked goods inside, and the flavor whorls up her nasal cavity in turn creating a smile.

Those subtle savors evoke remembrances of her beloved Nona, who unfortunately lost her battle against the Beelzebub in the depths of the Spoken Forest.

Wherefore Nona hath set up home is beyond mine own comprehension, I miss her dearly.

She's jerked back to reality  by her mother yelling, seizing her from the lovely memory she just experienced, "Red, keep up Father shall want his grub and why would thee associate with that Jack he's such an amorous knave,"

Red's face screws into a grimace as she retorts, "I befall to like Jack's company as he's a kind and sincere fellow mother, and who art thee to talk we are no better than he and you know that,"

Mrs. Lange swivels to face her and inflicts such a blow to her skin it leaves an imprint as she says in an incensed voice, "How dare thee speak to me in that tone, young mistress thy father shall hear about this".

Teardrops flux on her outer layers like the droplets of rain dancing upon the water's surface.

Her skin tingles as she gently touches it against her fingers and it's painful so In a quivering murmur, she says, "I shalt have to soothe this at which hour I arrive at home or it shall bruise and oh great I have to deal with the wrath of the demon I call my father.

'Mother shall regret laying her hand on me, mark my word, malevolent old fool'.

A vindictive rage surges within as Red travels towards her dwelling, still sensing the irritation on her cheek, and villainy ensnared within her mind.

It's a weird trek back home for Red as she's sore, infuriated, and uncertain about what she'll encounter for her insolence.

Punishment or Not, how shall it be?