Page 14 of Hansel and Gerhardt
It was a ridiculous suggestion; Hansel stood head and shoulders above Gerhardt, and at that time, the only weapon Gerhardt had to wield was a glorified pillow. But the sentiment made Hansel a touch braver. He took up a long and sharplypointed broken branch, then moved a protective shoulder in front of Gerhardt.
“Well, well,” rasped a disembodied voice, emanating from the treeline. “What have we here?”
They searched the forest—nothing more than a suggestion of trees in the fading light, their willowy greyness almost obscured by the black beyond.
Despite his bravery, Hansel took a step back to feel the reassuring press of Gerhardt against his shoulder blade.
“Who goes there?” Hansel called, surprising himself with the firmness of his voice.
A flicker of light, sharp, then glaringly luminous, danced in the forest dark. A spark growing bright on approach, then a predatory glow of yellow. Some dying ray of sunlight caught shining white, and a flash of fang almost stopped both their hearts before the curl of a long and ravenous tongue obscured it from view.
“That wolf,” the hare whispered, burrowing deep into Gerhardt’s arms.
Both men stood speechless, the crack of a twig beneath one enormous paw making them jump as the beast approached.
“Who shall I eat first?” The great snout came into view, and the animal seemed to them both to be smiling. Its nose twitched as it sniffed the air, and leaning its head back a little, it settled eyes on Gerhardt. It sighed out, “You do smell good.” Then, with a sharp flash of those killer eyes running down Hansel’s frame, “And he wasn’t lying; youdohave nice thighs.”
Hansel blushed scarlet, head dropping to assess the thighs the creature seemed to covet, while Gerhardt’s gaze followed the look of the beast.
Hansel did have nice thighs. He had damned nice thighs. And Hell would freeze over before Gerhardt would let anyone but himself sink his teeth into those thighs.
Barely registering that last thought, Gerhardt stepped forward. “If you can talk, you can understand me.”
The only answer was a slight tilt of the enormous head, grey fur shimmering in the evening light.
“Then… Then… Please, let us go?”
A deep and deeply mocking laugh filled the forest. “No.”
“We don’t taste good,” said Hansel. “I can guarantee it. In fact, we haven’t eaten in days. We’re no better than skin and bone.”
“I like skin and bone,” the wolf growled.
“Not this skin,” Gerhardt replied. “I’m riddled with disease. And fleas. Lice. Um…”
“Ticks!” Hansel threw out. “We’re covered in ticks. You don’t want to eat us. We’re disgusting.”
“Hey!” the hare protested.
“I’m not leaving without a full belly,” said the wolf, stalking closer, eyes latching onto Hansel so hungrily that a shock of panic took Gerhardt.
“Please stop!” Gerhardt’s heart, pounding in his chest, sank as he realised they had but one chance at survival. “Take this hare.”
Hansel, aghast, looked over at him.
Gerhardt couldn’t have looked him in the eye, even if he’d dared to break his concentration on the beast.
The animal lowered its brow, looking amused. “Why would I want a tiny ball of fur when I can enjoy all this tasty, fresh, torrid manhood?”
“Torrid?” Hansel whispered.
“Because it’s magical,” Gerhardt tried. “It’s a magical hare, and I think it will be more satisfying than we ever would be.”
“Don’t,” Hansel begged, but he knew how stupid he was being. What choice did they have?
“If you go for me,” said Gerhardt, eyes on the wolf, “or if you go for him, I’ll drop it, and it will be gone, and you’ll never know how good this magical hare would have tasted. And look.” Handsshaking, he grasped the animal at the midline and lifted it. “Look how big it is? Is that the biggest hare you’ve ever seen?”
The pink tongue came out, sliding over the sharp teeth.
