The forest sank into a thick, swallowing darkness. Beneath the gnarled branches of an ancient oak, an old man sat hunched on the damp earth. His breath came in ragged gasps, his hands trembled with cold, and his eyes were hollow with despair. His own children had brought him here and abandoned him like rubbish, their hearts as cold as the November air.
For years, they had waited for his deathcounting the days until his grand estate in Cornwall, his acres of land, and his fortune in pounds would pass to them. But the old man refused to die. So they dragged him into this lonely stretch of woodland near Dartmoor, leaving him without food or water, hoping the wild beasts would finish what time had not. The police would call it a tragic accident.
Shivering against the tree, the old man flinched at every rustle in the undergrowth. The wind howled like a banshee, but beneath its wail came another soundthe distant cry of wolves. He knew the end was near.
“Lord above is this truly how it ends?” he whispered, clasping his hands in prayer.
Thena snap of twigs. Another. Footsteps, drawing closer. The old man tried to stand, but his limbs refused. His eyes darted through the shadows until, between the bracken, a wolf emerged.
The beast stepped onto the path, its silver-grey fur gleaming in the moonlight, eyes burning like embers. It bared its teeth and edged nearer.
“This is it,” the old man thought.
He shut his eyes and murmured his prayers, bracing for the bite of fangs. But thensomething impossible happened.
The wolf did not strike. Instead, it padded forward, lowered its great head, and let out a soft, mournful howl, as if speaking to him.
Confused, the old man stretched out a shaking hand. The wolf did not recoil. It allowed his fingers to sink into its thick pelt.
And thenmemory struck. Decades ago, when he was still strong, he had found a young wolf trapped in a hunters snare near these very woods. Risking his own life, he had pried open the cruel metal jaws and set the creature free. The wolf had vanished into the trees without a backward glanceor so hed thought.
Now, the beast bowed before him like a knight to a king. It crouched low, its message clear: climb on.
With what little strength remained, the old man clutched the wolfs neck. The creature rose and carried him through the whispering forest, past darting shadows and unseen eyes that dared not approach.
After miles, a glow pierced the treesa village. At the sound of growls, the townsfolk came running, only to freeze at the sight before them: a massive wolf, gently depositing a frail but living man at their doorstep.
Inside, warmed by fire and kindness, the old man wept. Not from fearbut because a beast of the wild had shown more humanity than his own flesh and blood.
