Wolf Part 2

The sun is barely up when I let my bucket down into the well, next morning. And as soon as I do, I hear it again.

"Wolf! Hurry! Wolf!"

 I feel the rope slither through my hands and then all I can see is the village whizzing by. I taste bile in my mouth and feel the beat of a drum in my wrists.

"I'm coming!" I scream, visions of blood against white wool chilling me. It's not the sheep's blood. I feel tears start in my eyes. The villagers run out after me, fearing for their sheep. It's the wool they're thinking of, not him.

I crash into him at the bottom of the hill, and he pulls me to my feet laughing. Disbelieving, I stare warily into those sea green eyes.

"This is another joke?" The villagers come stampeding down the hill with their pitchforks and knives brandished.

"Surprise!" He slaps his knee in devilish merriment, not seeing the tears in my eyes. I brush them away quickly. The people are angry this time, and my shepherd boy is in trouble.

"Enough of this!"

"String him up before he wears us out with this nonsense!"

"Find someone else to tend the flock!"

"Enough of your mischief!"

Their voices ring angrily through the meadow like stones breaking the tranquility of a pond's smooth surface. Fighting my own anger, I rise to his defense. I see confusion in his eyes, but no repentance. Still, I can't let them do this. He's my friend.

"Give him one more chance." I plead. They let him go, stalking back up the hill. Their mutters are heard, condemning and impatient. My shepherd boy looks at me, sheepish with guilt.

"It was just a joke."

But it wasn't.

I shrug grimly and walk slowly back up the hill.