Day 165: 21 April 2026

 Short Story -- Dark was the Night

The crow’s caw was the only sound. This time of year this deep in the forest it was suffocatingly dark early. And snow not only already blanketed the world but more was falling.

But the girl did not care.

She followed the voice of the crow. And even if he hadn’t been there, she’d walked these woods hundreds of times in all sorts of weather. She knew them like she knew her own soul.

‘I’m coming,’ she huffed under her breath. ‘I should turn you into soup or roast you on a stick you old bird,’ she thought.

Up ahead she could just make out the shape of a small house. It was dark. But there was a faint glow from behind the shuttered windows. ‘The fire is still burning,’ she thought pleasantly.

Home.

The crow was waiting in a perch by the door when she arrived. He tilted his head inquisitively. And she turned the key and pushed open the door.

He swooped in and she followed close behind. She stomped the snow off her feet by the door and took off her red cloak and hung it on a peg. She slipped on a pair of thick, wool slippers and padded to her chair by the fire. The crow was already nearby.

‘Ahhhh,’ she sighed contentedly. There’s nothing quite like coming home to a warm fire. She would reheat the soup in a minute and pull a chunk of bread out of the cupboard. But first, she wanted to get warm.

Outside the snow continued to fall.

And then she heard it.

A howl in the distance.

She scowled, padding over to the door to check the bolt and the windows to check the shutters. Her home was by no means large. Just one room that tripled as a living room, bedroom and kitchen.

‘Not tonight,’ she gritted her teeth.

She picked up the long steel sword from near the fire and strapped it to her. Then she got the soup and the bread.

The crow fluttered as another howl cut through the night. This time it was a little closer.

She placed a wooden chair in front of the door and sat, munching on the bread.

A third howl. Even closer this time.

She balanced the bowl of hot soup on one hand. Eating but keeping her eyes trained on the door.

‘I dare you to try,’ she whispered ferociously.

And try the wolf did.

‘Come now, Red,’ his deep voice came through the door. ‘You can’t keep me out forever. And the night is cold and dark.’

She stood silently. Feet braced. Sword drawn, glowing in the light of the fire.

He threw himself against the door, teeth gnashed at the handle. It shook, but it held firm.

The wolf tried the windows. He managed to knock off shutter, but she had placed iron bars, creating the effects of panes. He hissed in pain as his nose or paw came into contact with the iron.

‘Clever girl,’ his low voice taunted.

She shifted her stance so that she was facing him, looking him in the eye. His eyes glowed with fury and the hunt.

‘You have no place here, Wolf,’ she said low and steady. ‘Be gone. For I will defend my own.’

The wolf’s large face disappeared, along with his terrible teeth.

But the girl continued to stand ready.

Outside the wolf let out a long howl.

And then silence.

Although snow blew in, she didn’t step any closer to the window. She turned the wooden chair and settled back onto it. Sword ready.

She kept watch that night. Stoking the fire as necessary.

She stood and stretched as what little sun made it into the heart of the forest started to creep in through the shutterless window.

She wearily walked over and looked out.

It had stopped snowing at some point. But the wolves paw prints, larger than her own feet, were still visible under the snow that’d fallen after he left.

She closed the indoor shutters, which she’d added for just this reason. She’d fix the outdoor set later. Right now, she’d sleep, knowing that daylight would mostly keep the monsters at bay.