Steam swirls around the cauldron as the goats, with mischievous grins and aprons dusted with Old Bay seasoning, usher the wolves toward their fate. The wolves, shorn and bristling with indignation, glance nervously at the bubbling pile of crab legs, clams, and shrimp. The air is thick with the tang of garlic and lemon, and the goats dance in a circle, tossing in handfuls of corn and potatoes. One wolf, eyes wide, whimpers as the goats nudge them closer to the cauldron.
The heat rises, making the wolves’ skin prickle, their noses twitching at the overwhelming scent of brine and spice. The interior of the cauldron is slick with melted butter, and the wolves scramble to keep balance as mussels tumble underfoot. They exchange panicked glances, their claws slipping on wet lobster shells. One wolf, more daring than the rest, nudges another and gestures upward to the heavy lid.
Alpha Wolf leads the charge, growling softly as he presses his back against the mound, paws straining toward the lid. The others join in, heaving with all their might as shrimp and potatoes rain down. The lid rattles, but just as it seems to budge, the mountain of seafood shifts and collapses, sending them tumbling back into the boiling mass. "We need to try again! If we work together, maybe we can break free," he urges, his voice thick with desperation.
The cauldron’s heat intensifies, steam clouding their vision as crab claws poke at their sides. The wolves struggle to regain their footing, but the surface is slippery and unstable. The goats’ laughter echoes from outside, their silhouettes dancing in the firelight. One wolf sighs, resignation settling in as the reality of their predicament becomes clear.
Silver Wolf, smallest of the pack, nestles close to Alpha Wolf, trembling. "If we’re going to cook, we might as well do it together," she says, her voice barely audible over the churning broth. The wolves huddle, forming a tight circle, trying to shield each other from the worst of the heat. Their eyes close, and for a moment, they find solace in their unity.
Outside, the goats set the table with bright napkins and gleaming platters, eager for their meal. The fire crackles, casting flickering shadows over the field. Inside, the wolves lie still, accepting their fate, their forms softened by the steam, surrounded by the bounty of the sea. The lid rattles one last time, then settles, sealing the story within the cauldron.
