She wanders the forest in search of a wolf.
Her blood red coat bleeding into the snow,
Face unseen but ghostly white
With outstretched fingers catching the dying leaves,
As they tumble to the ground.
She's out there alone,
beckoning the full moon,
And howling the wolf calls,
Rallying spectators to take their place.
Should you choose enter, more fool you,
You'll never meet her,
She'll see you first then disappear,
The flash of red that caught your eye,
The snap of broken twigs underfoot,
And the haunting voice singing to the birds.
She's the desperate scream
And the ghostly air that gets you running.
She watches as you stumble and shout,
Trying to escape.