The Wolf and the Lamb

A thirsty wolf was wandering near a clear, bubbling stream when he spotted a young lamb drinking water further downstream. The wolf, driven by a cruel hunger and a desire to justify his malice, decided he would make a meal of the innocent creature. He strode toward the lamb with a menacing growl.

'How dare you muddy the water I am drinking!' the wolf roared, his eyes flashing with feigned indignation. 'You are making it impossible for me to quench my thirst with your filthy habits.'

The lamb, trembling but gentle, looked up with wide, fearful eyes. 'Please, sir, do not be angry,' the lamb bleated softly. 'I am drinking from the stream quite a way below you. It is physically impossible for the water to flow from me up to where you are standing.'

The wolf paused, his tail twitching in irritation. He was not interested in logic, only in an excuse for his violence. 'Be that as it may,' the wolf snapped, 'I heard that last year you spoke ill of me behind my back.'

'That cannot be possible,' the lamb replied, his voice barely a whisper. 'Last year, I was not even born yet.'

This retort only served to infuriate the wolf further. He bared his sharp, yellowed fangs and stepped closer, his shadow falling long over the small creature. 'If it was not you, then it was your father or your brother,' the wolf snarled. 'It makes no difference to me who exactly it was; I have no intention of going hungry today simply because you have a ready answer for everything.'

Without another word, the wolf pounced. The lamb, despite his truthful words and his innocent heart, had no defense against a predator who had already decided that might makes right. The stream continued to bubble along, indifferent to the tragedy that had just unfolded upon its banks.