The forest stood quiet, its towering trees swaying gently under the whisper of the night wind. The moon hung pale and watchful, casting a silvery glow upon the moss-covered ground. In the middle of this vast wilderness, an old man sat slumped against the base of a massive oak, his frail frame trembling from exhaustion and despair. His clothes were torn, his lips dry, and his eyes heavy with grief. He had been left there—not by chance, not by accident, but by the very people who should have loved him most: his own children.
They had abandoned him with neither food nor water, convinced that his age and frailty were a burden. For them, survival and convenience outweighed love and loyalty. They had whispered among themselves for days, thinking he could not hear—debating how to rid themselves of the man who had once carried them on his shoulders and worked tirelessly to provide. And so, with cold determination, they had led him into the depths of the forest, set him down upon a log, and walked away without a backward glance.
The old man had begged them with weary eyes, but no words came from his parched lips. He had watched their silhouettes fade into the shadows of the trees, leaving him alone in the silence. For hours he sat, his mind replaying the moments of his long life—the sacrifices he had made, the love he had poured into raising his family, the nights spent working by lamplight so his children could sleep peacefully in warm beds. All of it seemed meaningless now.
As darkness deepened, fear crept into his heart. The forest, beautiful by day, had transformed into a place of menace at night. Every rustle of leaves, every distant cry of an owl seemed to mock his helplessness. His body shook uncontrollably, whether from cold or dread, he could not tell. Closing his eyes, he clasped his trembling hands together and began to pray. His voice was frail, quivering like the flame of a dying candle.
Suddenly, a sound froze him in place—a low, deliberate crunch of paws against the undergrowth. The old man dared not open his eyes. His breath caught in his throat, and his heart hammered against his ribs. A presence was near, and instinct told him it was no harmless creature. The steps grew closer until a warm breath brushed against his skin.