He couldn't believe it. Jack's jaw grew slack as he panted, feeling the icy cold of the approaching night rushing over his bare chest, forcing all hairs to stand on end and nipples to pebble painfully.

The dark clouds above were illuminated by the roaring fire at the edge of the village. With wide eyes, Jack watched as his house was devoured by flames. The structure was surrounded by villagers, laughing and cheering on the youngsters that guarded the inferno.

Jack shivered in the relative safety of the woods, heart hammering in his chest as he realized just how close he came to being burned to a crisp. He had a hard time sleeping at night after he had packed everything he needed, his stomach a jumbled mess of anticipation.

When he had decided to treat himself on a rare glass of warm milk, a slight movement outside had caught his attention. Quiet as a mouse, he had crept towards his window and caught sight of several teens coming from the pyre, holding several torches.

He had known without a doubt that they were headed his way and had tripped over his only chair as he backed away. Then it was a race against time to grab his clothes and shoulder bag, snatching his cloak at the very last second before he shot out of the hidden back door.

And now he stood there, shivering in the cold with a mixture of fear and adrenaline rushing through his veins. How was he going to survive the coming winter? He only packed enough food to last him a few days, not several months...

The wind rushed through the woods, feeding the fire and blowing the scent of burning hay and wood his way. He blinked and looked down before realizing he stood there in his underclothes. With slightly tingling fingers, he quickly dressed himself and decided to wear the cursed cloak, knowing that at least it would provide him some warmth.

At least its good for something.

Jack froze when he heard a distant howl ring through the air, quickly followed by the screaming villagers as they ran for cover. From his position, he could see several furry blurs rush through the familiar pathways, making Jack stumble back just as he realized what was happening.

They came back. The wolves...they're back!

He whimpered in fear, backing away from the village slowly as the wounds on his thigh and wrist burned. Without a second thought, he grabbed his stuff and ran like a bat out of hell, as if the devil himself was on his heels.

And in Jack's mind, that was exactly the case. He didn't wait to see several wolf circling his former house, tasting the air and snarling venomously. He certainly didn't stop when said wolves quickly turned on the villagers when they tried to defend themselves with clubs and pitchforks.

The leaves crunched loudly under his feet as he made his way through the forest. He knew the Witch lived somewhere down south, but no one knew exactly where. The villagers had never mentioned her exact location because they believed the Witch of the Wilds would know it when people spoke of her...and take revenge.

Jack didn't believe the superstitious hogwash that the villagers swallowed happily but there was a niggling sense of doubt in his mind. Was he simply running towards his doom or did the witch truly exist. Either way, he knew to look for a woman who lived on her own in a small clearing of the woods.

I'm doomed. He thought before snorting to himself. The night air was cool and now that he was away from the village, he found himself...more relaxed. Happier than he ever was after his mother died. He had a certain sense of freedom rushing through his veins while he quickly made his way through the woods

Nnnnnn....cold....

When he couldn't hear the village anymore, he stopped, placing his hands on his knees and panted heavily. Its been a while he had to run so far and so fast. After he calmed down, he quickly came to realize one crucial fact.

He no longer had the safety of his home to sleep in. If Jack decided to go and sleep, those wolves would find him as weak as vulnerable as a newborn calf wrapped in a bright red ribbon to top it off. Jack quickly let his eyes roam the forest, looking for a place to sleep.

A hollow in the tree roots caught his attention but he quickly shook his head. Wolves could dig faster than he could and he didn't like to be a rat trapped in a corner while they dug him out.

Finally he decided on climbing into the tree, knowing that wolves couldn't climb. They could jump, but Jack was going to make sure he was high up in the branches, where they couldn't get him.

A twig snapped into the distance, stalling Jack's heart before it began to race in his chest. Fear poured out of his pores as he quickly scanned the forest before untying his cloak. The length of the flowing cloth would only catch on the branches and stop his quick ascend.

Several minutes later, he sighed and wiped the sweat of his brow, feeling confident at a job well done. He had ventured as far up the tree as he could, using his delicate frame in his favor. Jack shuffled his weight slightly before deciding to use the cloak as a safety measure.

No use in climbing a tree only to fall down out of it when you succumb to sleep.

"There...that should keep me here." Jack whispered to himself, feeling the fabric tightly around his waist after he had secured it around the tree trunk. He used whatever was loose to cover himself up a bit, trying to shield himself from the autumn's slightly frosty nights.

As his eyes slowly started to droop, the pent up emotions of the last few days suddenly rushed him. Jack started to sob into his hands, coming to fully understand that in the hostile world he called home, he was now completely on his own.

There would be no goodnight hugs, a soft kiss on his cheek before he would succumb to sleep. His mother wasn't with him anymore to shield him from the cruel world and shower him with love and affection.

And not for the first time since the wolf attack, Jack silently pleaded with the gods above. Because in his mind, he should've been the one laying buried beside the lake. His mother would've survived the journey ahead, she would've known what to do.

With those dark thoughts haunting his mind, Jack slowly fell asleep.

He wasn't aware that a few feet below him, his tears dripped down on the damp floor, splashing against the crushed leaves. At the soft sound, a muzzle drew near to sniff at the liquid before a pair of golden eyes shot up.

The wolf circled the tree before pushing itself on its hind paws, front paws resting against the rough bark. He could hear the steady thumps of the boy's heart, smell his distinct scent wafting up the tree.

And more importantly, the boy reeked of the wolf's own scent, pouring out of his scarred wrist. With a low growl, the wolf dropped down on all fours and curled up beneath the tree, ears pricked up to detect any sound in the silent air.

He had the time and patience to wait.