Source: authenticfauxhemian.tumblr.com via Pinterest then tracked back to original photographer Loreta loretablog.blogspot.co.uk
“Please…don’t hurt me!” she begged, her soft -grey eyes widening in fear.
Clutching her basket tightly in her red-gloved hands she pressed her spine into the tree, but the towering man still advanced.
“That’s my brother’s coat you’re wearing.” Bitterness coated his words. “Where did you get it?”
She tensed, swallowing hard but not moving her eyes from his.
“I said, where’d you get it?” He repeated, venom spitting from his thin lips.
She shook her head.
“Answer me girl!” His voice rose booming through the silence of the wintry forest. “My brother’s gone…and you’ve got his coat! How did you get it?”
She licked her lips and spoke, almost inaudibly. “He…he gave it to me.”
“He what? He gave it to you! Foolish answer girl, he loved that coat!” He leered. “Spent many a night out with him and that coat…”
“It’s mine,” she began with defiance tinging her small voice.
“Yours? I don’t think so!” he barked at her.
She bent placing her basket on the floor and crossed her arms over the heavy, woollen coat, pulling its softness protectively around her tiny frame. A languid smile spread across his scarred face and he leaned in close. His breath, stinking of chewed tobacco, made her glare and he took a golden curl in his coarse fingers. “I think…I want that coat back.”
As he twirled her hair she met his lascivious gaze and smiled. “And I think I want yours.” Her voice was barely a whisper yet it chilled him and he tried to step back.
The altercation was skilled and quick, and not a moment later he lay dead and bloody, his brother’s grey, woollen coat his shroud. She pulled his leather jacket about her shoulders and replaced her scarlet gloves, deftly concealing her razor-sharp talons.