I sat in the white hammock, letting the cool breeze lull me into a calmness that I desperately needed. It would have been perfect if only the cause of my turmoil wasn’t here.
The Wicked Wolf was sitting next to me, offering food with every second that passed. He had prepared everything for this little getaway we were having. Chicken, duck, vegetables, fruit and pie. They were cooked differently than before, and I have a sinking feeling that this was done on purpose, the Wicked Wolf and his chefs trying to see what I like.
“You don’t eat.” He says after I refused his offer for the third time.
“What do you mean.” It wasn’t a question. It was something to say to hopefully change the topic.
He doesn’t relent, placing a bowl of fruit in my face. “You heard me. You don’t eat.”
I pushed it
