David stands near a gnarled olive tree, his sling hanging at his side and a wooden staff in his hand. His eyes scan the flock, counting each sheep with care. "Come closer, little ones. The morning is fresh and the grass is sweet," he calls, his voice gentle and melodic.

David kneels to splash cool water on his face, smiling at the antics of the lambs. "You must stay near, or you’ll get your hooves muddy," he laughs, watching as one particularly curious lamb nudges his hand for attention.

David grips his staff tighter, his posture alert and protective. "Do not fear, my friends. No harm will come to you while I am here," he assures the flock, his voice steady and resolute.

David stands between the wolf and the sheep, his sling now ready in his hand. "You will not take from my flock!" he declares, spinning a smooth stone in his sling and releasing it with practiced accuracy.

David lowers his sling, relief and pride shining in his eyes as the sheep regroup around him. "All is well again. Come, let us rest in the safety of the shepherd’s watch," he says, his tone soothing and full of quiet strength.

David sits atop a stone, playing a simple melody on his harp. His song drifts over the pasture, filling the evening with peace and gratitude. "May you sleep soundly, my dear ones. Tomorrow brings a new dawn and endless green fields,"