I'm in the village, at the well when I hear the screams. Heart thudding, I recognize the voice right away. Its my friend. He's a farm boy, well, a shepherd actually. Dropping my pail, I run as fast as I can towards the sound. The water runs down the hill with me, slipping through the cobbled streets like a snake urging me on with its venomous tongue. I'm trying not to hear the word my friend is calling. But I do.
"Wolf!"
I run faster, terror ripping at my heart. What if I'm not there in time?
"Help! Hurry! Help me!" I scream the tremulous cry. Save him, save him! They come running, all the people in my village. Their feet pound on the cobblestones. They're armed with pitchforks and knives, their eyes brave and strong. Their aim will be true. But not as true as mine. The people fall behind me as my feet seem to fly on wings of fear.
I top the crest of the hill and look out across the fields of green, hoping, praying not to see what I fear most: that I'm too late and my friend is gone.
Instead I see his laughing mouth, twisted in a boyish grin.
"Oh if you could see your face!" He says to me with good natured mirth, the sheen of his eyes reflecting the grass. He sees my face, but doesn't catch the meaning. He knows I was afraid. He doesn't know why. "Don't look so frightened! It was just a joke. The sheep are all fine." His smile falls a bit as his eyes dart in and out of the crowd. Fearing their anger against him, I force a reluctant grin. After all, it was just a joke. Seeing me laugh, their tight grim mouths loosen and soon we are all laughing.
But I can't stop the pounding in my heart.
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