Once upon a time, in a sheep community surrounded by a very tall fence, there lived a sheep named Puff.
Puff was unlike the others thats because the sheep were afraid of him, though none of them could say why and because of this Puff was always alone.
The other sheep would not let him join their games, and each day he felt more invisible than the last.
Then, one morning, a sheep went missing.
and soon, more followed.
The flock grew frightened and whispers spread quickly: a wolf must have gotten inside the fence.
Every night, the sheep gathered together to talk. They argued and worried, wondering who among them could be the wolf in disguise.
At last, they came to a decision.
Each night, until the wolf was found, one sheep would be sent beyond the fence, banished to the forest so the rest could feel safe.
The choice was never hard.
Puff was always the name spoken last, and then agreed upon.
Puff knew no one liked him, and no one truly knew how many wolves might be hiding. But Puff had a plan that no other sheep would dare attempt.
He would pretend to be a wolf.
Puff stitched together a costume from scraps and shadows, practicing how to walk, how to stand, how to sound dangerous.
If he could blend in with the wolves, he could learn where they hid and stop them.
When the night came, and Puff was banished, he crossed the fence wearing his costume and stepped into the forest.
Not long after, he heard a rustle in the bushes. Startled, he pulled the costume tight just as a wolf stepped out.
"They got you too?" the wolf laughed calmly.
Puff's heart raced.
"Yeah," he replied. "Guess I slipped up."
The wolf sniffed him closely. "You smell odd," it said. "Almost like a sheep."
Puff forced a laugh. "Must be from being around them so long. Name's Kyle."
The wolf shrugged and motioned for him to follow.
They walked deep into the forest, into a dark cave where many wolves waited. Puff's heart pounded as a large wolf stood up.
"So," the wolf growled, "how many did you catch?"
"Three," said one wolf proudly.
"Only one," Puff said quickly.
The wolves seemed pleased and soon began to laugh and play.
Puff used the moment to ask questions, pretending confusion. One wolf, sitting apart from the others, watched him closely.
"Didn't you hear where we meet every night?" the wolf asked.
Puff scratched his head. "Guess I missed that part."
The wolf frowned. "Across the chicken houses. That's where we decide who to eat."
Puff remembered everything.
Later that night, Puff slipped away and hurried back toward the fence, his legs aching and his costume torn from running.
But when he arrived
The fence stood open.
The ground was dark and wet. Wool lay scattered across the grass like fallen clouds. The sheep were no longer sleeping peacefully together; they were piled, broken, and silent. The smell reached Puff before the sight did, thick and sickening.
Wolves were everywhere.
Some dragged pieces of sheep between their teeth. Others chewed lazily, their mouths red, their eyes shining. The night echoed with tearing sounds and low growls of satisfaction.
Puff took a step back.
His costume finally gave way, ripping down the side and exposing the white wool beneath. A wolf lifted its head and stared.
"A sheep," it snarled.
The others followed.
They turned toward Puff, blood dripping from their mouths, intestines trailing from their jaws as they rushed him all at once. Puff tried to scream, but the sound was swallowed by teeth and claws.
By morning, nothing remained of Puff but scraps of wool and a ruined costume.
And the sheep, if any were left, would never know he tried to save them.
And the fence stood tall
The End.