“Nicole ah, you don't always have to visit me. I'm not that old and useless, that I always need my favourite granddaughter checking up on me,” the elderly said. Her wrinkled hands still felt young and gentle holding onto Nicole's. Her grandmother still looked quite young for her age and had only a few strands of white hair.

“Grandma! You know I'm here because I love spending time with you. And besides, Mother always complains about me staying in the house too much. Walking through the woods is refreshing!” she chimed, giving her grandmother's hand a squeeze. She picked up her basket and removed the checkered quilt covering it. She took out an apple and pulled out a fruit knife, careful not to cut herself.

“I suppose. How's your mother doing? That woman never visits her own mother herself and is always sending her daughter to do the job for her,” she said, shaking her head.

“Mother's fine. She's been busy working on a dress for the festival coming up. You should come, Grandma!” Nicole smiled, cutting away the skin of the apple carefully. People said you get a wish if you manage to cut away all skin in one strand.

Nicole groaned in annoyance when the strand of apple skin snapped, before she even peeled half the apple. “Darn it! I just don't get how you do it, Grandma!”

Grandmother let out a soft laugh, “It takes a while to learn. Your grandpa used to love apples and I would peel them for him all the time.”

Nicole thought back to the first time she met Hoya and how he refused her apple. It was too bad he didn't like apples. She wouldn't mind peeling one for him. Suddenly a question popped up in her head, “Grandma, how did you meet Grandpa?”

“Grandpa used to be quite the hunter back then. I was in the woods one day, picking out flowers for your Great-Grandmother's birthday when a wolf came along. Of course, I didn't know what to do. I thought I was going to get gobbled up but your grandfather happened to be around and shot that darn thing down. It was like love at first sight,” she smiled at the thought of her love,“but those damn wolves”

Nicole looked up upon hearing her grandmother curse. Grandmother was no longer smiling. She was looking off into nothing but her eyes were narrowed with a spark of anger. Whatever she was thinking of probably wasn't a happy memory. Finally, she turned back to Nicole and said solemnly, “Nicole, try to stay out of the woods as much as you can.”

Nicole nodded, still curious as to what her grandmother was thinking of. She was a smart girl though. She knew better than to ask her Grandma about something she probably didn't want to talk about. She also knew that just because her Grandma didn't want to talk about it, it didn't mean her Mother wouldn't.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she arrived home, she saw that her mother was cooking dinner and quickly went to over to help. She grabbed and knife and began to help Mother peel away the skin.

“How was Grandma?” Mother asked while cutting up a few tomatoes

“She's good. She wants you to visit her more though.”

“I would but she should know how busy I am,” she sighed, placing the tomatoes into the pot of boiling water.

Nicole nodded. She waited a moment before asking, “Mother, what happened to Grandpa?”

Nicole didn't miss the way her mother winced at the mention of 'Grandpa' before continuing to wash the potatoes. “What did your grandmother say?”

“Nothing. She just said something about wolves and she seemed pretty mad about it.” Nicole cleared away the carrot's skin before starting to cut it into thin slices.

Mother placed down her knife before turning to Nicole, “A long time ago, a young boy was found dead not far from the village. Your grandfather and a group of other hunters found his body when they were coming home from a hunt and saw a wolf hunched over his body. That beast almost got away but they managed to shoot it dead. It wasn't enough though.”

Nicole looked up at Mother, waiting anxiously for her to continue. “Grandfather and a group of other huntsmen decided that they need to kill every single one of those things, not wanting another one of their children to be attacked. They went out together early in the morning but none of them returned even when the sun had already set. Everyone was worried, but it was too dark for anyone to go out into the woods and find them. Finally, the morning came. Your grandmother was the first one to run outside the house to look for Grandfather. But she didn't have to, because Grandfather's body was lying in the centre of the village. Dead.”

“Ouch!” Nicole dropped the knife in her hands, clenching onto her bleeding finger.

“Nicole!” her Mother took her finger and rinsed it under cool water. “Just go sit down.”

So that's why Grandmother hates wolves. It might also explain why Mother's so scared of the woods. She nodded, walking away and blowing on the large cut on her index finger. Again, at the mention of the woods, she thought about Hoya again. A thought popped into her head, stopping to turn to her mother again, “Mother, do you have any of father's clothes I can have?”

“No. Don't be ridiculous! Why would I still keep that man's clothes around here? I probably burned them all,” Mother snapped, “Just go play by yourself outside until dinner.”

Nicole frowned, knowing that it probably wasn't a good idea to bring up Father after hearing the story of her Grandfather. Father hadn't died as hero like Grandfather. He wasn't dead, but to Mother he was. He left Mother all by herself when Nicole was a baby without saying a word. Nicole didn't know much about her father and therefore could not hate him. How could you hate someone you didn't know? Even if it seemed irresponsible of him, maybe he had a good reason they didn't know about.

Instead of going outside like her mother told her to, she went into the bedroom Mother and her shared. Beside the bed was a trunk where her Mother would keep all the pieces of rags the townspeople gave to her. Maybe she could find something for Hoya. His clothes were pretty worn out.

She lifted the cover carefully, not wanting to make any sounds. Mother would probably get so mad, she won't be getting dinner tonight. The trunk really consisted of rags; rags that you couldn't even wear. Her mother would often return from town with a bag of these rags that the townspeople gave her and she would just dump it all into this trunk without even looking at it. Only when she needed to make something would she go through the trouble of picking out pieces she could use.

Just as she was able to give up, she pulled out a grey knitted long sleeve. “Now why would this be here...”

She held it out in front of her and saw that it was a perfectly fine sweater; no holes or anything. Someone must've given it to Mother by accident, she shrugged before digging around the box some more to see if there were anything else she could take instead. She found a few pieces of tank tops but they were too small for even her to wear. She closed up the trunk and folded up the shirt, hiding it in her picnic basket just as she was called for dinner.

It was a good thing she ate dinner early because by the time she finished, the sun was just beginning to set. She grabbed her picnic basket and called out, “Mother, I think I'll go get some water from the well!”

She ran out of the house before her Mother even had the chance to answer.

“I hope he didn't go home yet,” she said to herself as she ran into the woods. It wasn't until minutes later that she realized it was a bad choice to run straight into the woods. Now she was lost. The sun could barely be seen anymore and in it's place was the moon.

“Hoya?” she called out. There was nothing but the cool breeze rustling the leaves. She pulled her cloak closer to her for protection before calling out again, “Hoya? Are you still out here?”

Suddenly, there was a loud crunching of branches behind her causing her to let out a sharp scream. She whirled around immediately to see what had just landed behind her.

Hoya rose from his crouched position, looking at her with furrowed brows. “What are you still doing here? It's late, go home.”

“I brought something for you!” she chirped, pulling out the grey long sleeve from her basket, “It's a bit big but I hope you'll like it.”

He grabbed the sweater out of her hands and took her wrist in his other, peering at her finger. “Why were you bleeding?”

She blushed, trying to pull her finger away but he refused to let her go. “I just cut myself when helping Mother cook.”

He lowered her hand, but still holding onto her. “It's dangerous out here. Little girls like you shouldn't be wandering around here. Let's get you home.”

Nicole stumbled over branches in the dark, only knowing that it was Hoya who was pulling her through the woods. But being scared of the dark wasn't enough to keep her from being mad. Who was he to call her a little girl? He was just as young as her even though he was a bit bigger in size. “Stop, Hoya!”

“Sh.”

Having him try to hush her only made her angrier, “Can't you at least say thank you for-”

The two froze, looking up into the night sky as a loud howl rang in the air. Chills ran down her back, thinking back to the story her mother had told her about Grandfather. Nicole felt herself being picked up and before she knew it, they were racing through the woods with the cool wind rushing against them. She clung onto him tightly, shutting her eyes closed. What else could she do? It wasn't long before she found herself on the front step of her house.

“Go inside, and keep the doors locked,” he ushered her towards the door, looking around anxiously.

“What about you?” she asked, going inside hesitantly, “Didn't you hear that? They'll get you if you stay out here!”

“Don't worry. I'll be fine,” he smiled reassuringly, patting her on the head.

“You are never leaving the house like that again!” Mother called from the kitchen. Nicole still had her head outside, not wanting to just let him leave like that. Her mother said louder, “Young lady! Do you hear me? Close that door right now!”

As her Mother yanked her from the door, she saw him spring off into the woods, still holding onto the sweater she gave him.

And just like that, he disappeared.

Not a single word was heard from him after that. She had nightmares of him being eaten by the wolves for the entire week. She tried to find him in the woods but had no luck. She knew it was pointless to ask the other children in the village if they have seen a young boy always hanging around the woods, since Hoya didn't have any friends except for her. But she asked anyway, and in return, they would laugh at her as though she was crazy. Maybe she was.

A bit of her guessed her nightmares were true, but the other bit of her didn't want to believe it. I mean, I can't call him dead unless his body turned up right? So she waited. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. No news.

It was if he never existed; it was all just a dream.