As they left the forest, the wolf Ashnir felt something like relief.
For a fleeting moment, it considered surrendering to fate—wandering into the sheepfold, feasting once, and then letting the hunters end it.
But it didn’t.
Because before death could come from without, Ashnir had already scented it within.
That scent—faint but unmistakable—was of red flowers. The kind animals feared most.
Now they were blooming.
Trees had fallen. The ground burned black.
And the animals were fleeing, panicked and wild, abandoning the forest behind them.
Night wolf Ashnir waited a long time at the edge of the forest.
Smoke curled into the sky, thick and black, stinging its eyes until they overflowed with tears. Still, it stared into the ruins, trying to see what remained.
At last, it rose.
Its body ached, its limbs unsteady—but it limped forward, back into the forest that no longer knew its name.
Back into the place that had changed beyond recognition.
Suddenly, Ashnir remembered something it had once overheard from the hunters.
They believed in reincarnation—that even in death, one might find their way back, might meet again those they had lost.
At the time, it had scoffed at such foolishness. Human nonsense.
But now, for reasons it couldn’t explain, the memory returned—soft, persistent, like a whisper carried on the smoke.
If life truly has reincarnation...
Then maybe—it’s not such a stupid idea after all.
Night wolf Ashnir died.
It had used the last of its strength to make it out of the forest.
With a final, staggering step, it collapsed.
The small rabbit it had carried gently in its jaws tumbled to the ground beside it.
Its fur was singed in places, scorched by the fire—but it was alive. Not badly hurt.
Ashnir had made sure of that.
The little rabbit stayed beside Ashnir’s body for a long time, crying in its own quiet way.
No one had ever seen a rabbit so sorrowful.
Even the hunters who came to battle the flames could not bring themselves to harm it.
Something in its grief stilled their hands—as if they, too, could feel the weight of the bond that had been broken.
Night wolf Ashnir was a proud wolf—
who was, and is, still.
THE END
