Once upon a time, Little red riding hood set off into the woods, all alone. You may be thinking, to see grandmother, of course. You'd be wrong. Little red headed off into the dark wood and found a tree. And up little red went. Perched on a branch, sketchbook in hand, drinking from a flask, with the moon as the only source of light. And waited. Little red waited for it, the muse. The big, bad wolf. And low and behold, gliding through the trees like a fish to water, was the wolf. Little red's little heart fluttered. Most would fear, cry, or run. Little red was not scared. Along with some liquid courage, little red had another thing. Something that little red couldn't resist. Complete and utter mesmerization of the creature that ran below.