Another version posits a reversal of roles: It is not Little Red Riding Hood but the Big Bad Wolf on his way to his grandmother’s house.

 

When he arrives at her cave he finds a girl wearing the fur of his grandmother, milkwhite teeth smeared rouge - the girl having been taught early on the wickedness of wolves by her father the hunter.

 

Moral: A wolf is a wolf is still a wolf, but only because the woods made it that way.