posted December 30, 2003 01:37 PM
Once upon a time, there was a village tucked into a beautiful valley. The people of the village were quite content with what they had and, with the exception of one slight problem, it could have been said that they lived in something of a paradise.For years, there had been rumors of packs of wolves roaming the mountains surrounding their village. These rumors had only been exaggerated by the occasional story that would prove to be nothing but hot air and imagination. After awhile, the stories lost their impact, and since noone had actually SEEN a pack of wolves in the area for centuries, folks sort of got along without worrying about it too much.
One day, a young man was sitting at the edge of the woods surrounding the village, when he heard what he thought were howls off in the distance. Curious, he walked off in that direction.
The further he walked, the more clues he came across that indicated that something was not quite right. There were tracks, strange dog-like tracks everywhere...but larger. There were droppings and the occasional disembodied hoof. Approaching a clearing near one of the foothills, the young man saw something move. Turning, he caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a LARGE wolf. It stared a hole through him for about 5 seconds, then turned and left.
The young man quickly traced the footprint of the creature down on a piece of paper and ran back to the village.
"The WOLVES are coming...you must prepare yourselves...you must hide!", he ran through the town shouting, "Quickly, there is no time to waste!"
The townspeople had heard this story before, and so, more than a few were twirling a finger around an ear.
"Cmon boy settle down! If the wolves were meant to come, then they'll come..and there's no use worrying about it.", said an old cobbler.
"Besides," said another villager, "people have been saying that the wolves would overrun this villages for hundreds of years. This wouldn't been the first time, and no doubt it won't be the last."
The young man looked at each and every face, told them about the wolves, about how there were many of them and showed them the sign..the track he had traced, yet he could see in their eyes that they had shrugged him off as "touched in the head" and that they would none of them heed his warning. This made him sad, frustrated, lonely..and he wanted to reach across the way and shake them until they understood that this wasn't like the other times...that HERE was a sign..here was an indicator that things were different this time.
It was little use. The few that decided to leave did so to humor him..little more. Friends and a few relations..that's all, not many.
The rest of the villagers laughed it off. Spoke among themselves about how they weren't going to be fooled again by such silliness.
When the pack arrived, it was 1500 animals strong. Noone is sure how such a large group of predators had wandered for so long undetected across the contryside. The occasional rumor had flared up, but died away...and now, here they were, in the flesh.
The wolves tore through the village leaving nothing in their wake to tell the tale of the beautiful village that had been so alive before they came and went. Every animal and person in that town was torn to bits,
Up in the caves above the village, there were just a few survivors. Among them was a young man who for the rest of his days regretted that he couldn't have done more to save them.
If you have loved ones in California.
Lindaland
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posted December 30, 2003 01:37 PM
