As she falls to the forest floor, Red becomes a sacrifice to mortality; scarlet syrup pouring from the lashings on her ivory cheeks which she gained as she stumbled towards the heart of the forest. She grasps forward at the nothingness ahead, her hands dragging over stumps and littered leaves; the remains of the woodland's decay. Her ruined hands caress across an unearthly and missplaced softness and she reaches towards the fallen wolf. His watery eyes search for hers, pleading, and she sighs as she curls up beside him; huntress and hunted fall into peace together - man and nature as one.
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