Mama Goat steps through the creaking door, her eyes sharp and worried as she surveys the chaos. The silence is unnerving, broken only by the distant chirping of crickets and the soft snores echoing from the kitchen. Her heart races as she glances around, searching for her children.

Mama Goat tiptoes closer, her gaze narrowing as she identifies the intruder—the Wolf, notorious for his cunning ways, now deep in slumber. She spots a trail of flour leading from the pantry to his massive, muddy paws. Beneath the kitchen table, her frightened kids huddle together, their eyes wide with terror.

Moving with the silent grace of a mother fiercely protective, Mama Goat kneels and whispers to her trembling children. "Stay close to me, little ones. Quiet as mice, and we’ll be safe," she soothes, her voice barely audible. One by one, she gathers her kids, shepherding them safely out of harm’s way while the wolf stirs but does not wake.

Mama Goat pauses, eyeing the flour caked on the Wolf's feet and the rolling pin left on the counter. Inspiration strikes like lightning, and a sly smile curls her lips. "If you want to invade my kitchen, you’ll become the main course," she mutters, determination glinting in her eyes as she sets her plan in motion.

With deft hooves, Mama Goat works quickly, shaving and seasoning the Wolf with aromatic herbs plucked from her garden. She folds tender meat into a savory stew, wrapping it in golden pastry. The scent of baking fills the house, comforting and victorious, as she places the wolf’s tail atop the pie—a flourish of dark, bristling garnish.

Mama Goat slices the pie, serving generous portions to her grateful children, their eyes shining with relief and admiration. "Tonight, we feast as a family—safe and together," she declares, her voice ringing with pride. Outside, the moon rises high, casting a silver blanket over the peaceful cottage, while inside, the family savors the taste of cleverness and courage.