Once upon a time there was a wolf, and there was a sheep. The sheep strayed from the herd, got lost in the forest and ended up living there. But the forest is the wolf’s home. A wolf and a sheep met and became friends with each other.
We had a good summer all around, it was warm and satisfying, so why quarrel?
In the fall they somehow got through it, and winter came - it was bad for them. The wolf's paws are cold, the sheep's tail trembles from the cold.
So the sheep says:
- Come on, wolf, let's build ourselves a house. We will heat the stove in the house and spend the winter warm. But the wolf is lazy. He says:
“It’s you sheep who are used to living under people’s roofs.” And I feel good as is.
The sheep built itself a hut, with a stove and a bed. And winter is no longer scary for her. Warmth for the sheep.
And the wolf scoured and scoured the forest and howled. The frost gets stronger every day, but there is nowhere to hide. No matter how lazy you are, you need to build at least some kind of house.
The wolf raked the snow into a pile, trampled it with its paws, swept it with its tail, and somehow built an ice hut.
Yes, then, as if on purpose, the sun came out, and the ice roof melted over the wolf, and the snow walls fell apart. Again a wolf without a home.
What should I do? What to do?
The wolf went to the sheep, stood in front of the hut and said:
- Sheep, little sheep, open the door a crack. It's freezing outside, and my nose and ears are frozen. Let me at least warm your face.
The sheep took pity on the wolf and opened the door of the hut. The wolf stuck his muzzle into the crack, stood, stood and said again:
- Sheep, little sheep, my front paws are frozen, let me step on the threshold.
The sheep opened the door wider and allowed the wolf to step on the threshold. It's not enough for the wolf.
“Do you hear, little sheep, how the wind howls?” says the wolf. “My sides are completely frozen.” Let me warm up the sides too.
The sheep has a soft, sheepish heart. “Well,” she answers, “I won’t lose any warmth, warm your sides, wolf.”
The wolf climbed into the hut up to its tail and said:
“Thank you, little sheep, it’s all good now.” I'm just afraid that the tail might freeze. Without a tail, all my wolf beauty will be lost! “Eh, wolf,” says the sheep, “what a master of begging you are!” You should walk around the villages with your bag. Okay, warm up the tail too.
That's all the wolf needs. He jumped into the hut, looked around, and jumped onto the stove. He curled up and doesn't want to leave.
He lay there like that until evening. He warmed up, steamed, and wanted to eat. So he says to the sheep:
- Sheep, little sheep, isn't it time to sleep? Climb onto the stove, I’ll move and there’ll be enough room for you.
The sheep looked at the wolf. The voice is gentle, but the eyes are angry and hungry.
“No, wolf,” the sheep answers. “I still don’t have time.” My spoons are not washed, the flour is not sifted. I'll handle it, then I'll go to bed.
The wolf lay, lay, waited, waited, and dozed off.
I woke up at night. Wow, I'm so hungry! The belly just let me down. I fumbled with my paw and there was no sheep on the stove. The wolf jumped onto the floor and let's look for the sheep. Only the sheep is cunning: it hid from the wolf in a trash bin. The wolf did not find her.
In the morning the sheep chuckles:
- Why didn’t you sleep at night, who was the gray one looking for? He poked his nose into all the corners, but couldn’t find the gray sheep.
The wolf lay on the stove all day. By evening he wanted to eat even more. Again he calls the sheep:
- Climb onto the stove, little sheep. It's warm here, it's good here.
The sheep answers him:
- Wait, wolf. I haven’t yet put the dough on the bread, the wood hasn’t been chopped. If I manage, I’ll climb onto the stove.
The wolf didn’t wait again and fell asleep. At night I woke up angry and hungry. So, it seems, he would howl, but he was afraid to scare the sheep. I rummaged around with my paw - empty. The sheep didn’t come to the stove to spend the night - it knows the habits of the gray one.
The wolf jumped to the floor. Poking here and there in the dark. There are no sheep anywhere.
In the morning the sheep laughs at the wolf again:
- Eh, wolf, why are you prowling around at night, looking for whom in the corners? I sat under the kneading plant, looking at you, gray one.
The third evening has arrived. Again the wolf calls the sheep to the stove, but the sheep makes an excuse:
- What are you doing, wolf! It's too early to sleep. My floors are not swept, my rugs are not shaken out.
The wolf fell asleep. At night I woke up and began looking for the sheep.
I turned over the trash can, knocked over the kneading bowl - there was no sheep anywhere. The wolf is completely hungry, his teeth are even chattering with hunger.
The sheep sees - things will not end well.
In the morning she ran out of the hut. She began to walk through the forest, digging in the snow with her hooves. I found a cranberry. She collected that berry in a pile and began to roll around on it. She smeared all her fur with red juice. Then she grabbed a long rod and ran back to the hut.
She stood under the window. He knocks on the frame with a rod and shouts in a terrible voice:
- Is there a wolf in the hut, is there a gray one on the stove? I killed seven wolves and I’ll get to this!
The wolf looked out the window. He sees a terrible, shaggy beast standing there, all smeared with blood, it must be that of a wolf?
The wolf got scared, tucked his tail, and quickly got out of the hut. He's huddled in the wilderness of the forest and doesn't show his nose from there.
And the sheep washed the red cranberries from its wool with snow and lived peacefully in a warm hut.
Translated from Russian · original on wisdomlib.ru