The Wolf You Feed

1st March 1872

‘The cold stillness of the air prickles my skin like a cactus, and I have a sensation of being watched, an observed specimen in the half-light. Now, a pair of glowing eyes shine and glint in the shadows, and the gray wolf looms suspiciously, assessing my every breath. The chipmunk at his feet is blissfully oblivious to the imminent peril of his situation; he who never tests his shackles is unaware that he is chained. Which wolf will prosper? The wolf you feed.’ – A.S.