Of Wolves and Little Girls

She wandered the woods
helpless with glee.
Further and deeper,
further and deeper
than any child should go
she used up all her breadcrumbs
and slipped into the night.
A little faster to get past
those wolf howls and laughs,
but wolves run faster than little girls
and she fell in the flowers,
their scent mingling with blood
while she died silently
in the mouths of her friends.