Under the mystical glow of the moon, stretching across the vast green fields, there lived a little sheep with a pure white coat, as innocent as the morning sun. The sheep lived happily among the flock, basking in the warmth of love, yet deep inside, it carried a dream—a love as sweet as a fairytale, like the whispers of the wind each night.
Then one day, the sheep met the fox.
The fox was intelligent, charming, and irresistibly captivating. His voice was as warm as the first light of dawn, his eyes as deep as an endless abyss, and his presence felt strong enough to shield the sheep from any storm. The fox knew how to spin enchanting tales, how to soothe the coldest winds, and how to paint dreams so vibrant they felt real.
The sheep fell in love.
A love so pure, so tender, like dewdrops at dawn, like the melody of a flowing stream. The sheep immersed itself in blissful days, running across the meadows with the fox, gazing at the stars, exchanging promises that felt as if they would last forever.
But as time passed, things began to change.
The once passionate eyes now held only indifference. The tight embraces grew loose and distant. Conversations, once endless, shrank into mere exchanges of words—short, empty, and filled with sighs.
The sheep felt sad. It sulked, hoping for the fox to comfort it like before. But now, instead of patience, the fox responded with exhaustion:
"Again? I'm so tired of this..."
The sheep’s heart, once warm and whole, grew heavy with cracks. Arguments became more frequent, joy faded, and all that remained was an ever-widening gap of silence.
Until one day, the sheep realized it couldn’t go on like this.
It decided to leave. But the sheep knew that if it kept its pure white coat, the fox would find it easily. He might try to pull it back, to beg, or worse… to break its heart all over again.
So the sheep dyed its wool black.
With a dark, unremarkable coat, the sheep blended into the night, hiding the wounds of its once-fragile heart. It didn’t want the fox to recognize it anymore. It didn’t want to be deceived by another fox ever again.
From then on, the sheep lived a new life. No longer the naive, innocent creature it once was, but no longer weak either. It learned to love itself, to stand tall without needing anyone’s protection.
And though its wool was no longer pure and radiant, the sheep knew that deep inside, it was still itself—just stronger than before.
