Mary's blood ran cold. The wolf was monstrous, easily the size of a pony, with bared fangs like daggers glinting in the fading autumn daylight. Sarah whimpered as it sniffed her faded blue dress, but remained paralyzed against the sturdy oak, her small frame trembling.
Mary forced herself a step forward, leaves crunching under her worn leather boots. She had to try to save her sister. Sarah was all she had left after the fever had taken their ma and pa last winter, leaving them orphaned at only 16 and 14 years old.
"H-hey!" Mary stammered, her voice thin and wavering in the cool evening air. The wolf's piercing yellow eyes snapped to her, and Mary's courage nearly broke under its predatory gaze. But she squeezed the metal pail tighter in her rough, work-worn hands calloused from long days scrubbing floors. She had to be brave, for Sarah.
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