Night was coming and the last rays of sun lingered on the snow. The dark blue night descended. The wolf knew it was time to go. He crept along as silently as the day forbidding moon, he watched a star. The wise trees living a hundred years know the clever ways of the wolf; an owl resting in a tree knew that winter would soon be over. The moon slipped out of a cloud to show her gleaming beauty. The wolf ran silently toward a little farm. The sky looked at his cape of stars. At dawn the farmer saw that he had no cow.
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