[4] But the pasture was full. The lambs grazed as if nothing had happened.

Only one, the frailest among them, stood apart.
And beneath its trembling hooves,
The snow bled.

[3] Second, the wolf had never been a wolf. Beneath the fur, it had always been a lamb. A young, defiant creature with fire in its eyes and blood on its breath.

[2] First, its heart was missing. The wound was clean, almost elegant, as if carved by someone who knew exactly where to bite, someone who had danced with death before.

yes, i'm mostly active on fb with bluesky now, but it's good that you still see my drawings and like them. thank you very much 🥰💚🧡

thank you for writing this wonderful scene 🥹😭😭💚🧡