The wolf struggles against the coarse bindings, her golden eyes blazing but her body helpless. The pig bustles around the fire, tossing in wild carrots and onions, humming a tuneless melody. The forest hushes, as if holding its breath for what comes next.

the pig[/@ch_2] sharpens a carving knife, his back momentarily turned. From the brush, another wolf’s silhouette slips into view, tense and desperate.] The lover wolf pads silently to his mate’s side, muzzle nuzzling her ear. "You came for me," she whispers, hope flickering in her voice. "Always. Hold on, I’ll get you free," he murmurs, teeth working at her knots.

the lover wolf[/@ch_3] mid-rescue. The forest is alive with tension, the crackle of fire loud in the silence.] "Thought you’d be clever, eh? No one sneaks up on Old Hamble," the pig grunts, lunging. With a practiced motion, he lassoes the lover wolf, binding his paws. The two wolves lie side by side, fear and sorrow mingling in their eyes.

"Please, if we are to be your meal, let us at least be together in the end," the mate pleads. "We promise not to resist, if we can boil together. Let us have that one comfort," he adds. "A touching offer," the pig muses, stroking his chin. "Very well, I accept. Wolves in love—one stew for the ages."

The pig[/@ch_2] shaves the wolves’ fur with surprising gentleness, their pelts glinting silver in the firelight.] The wolves shiver, but lean into each other, muzzles brushing. The pig guides them to the pot, lifting them in with care. The space is snug, their bodies pressed close, and for a moment, it feels almost like a cradle.

"It’s not so bad, is it?" the lover wolf breathes, voice soft. "No. We’ll be together always—one stew, one story," she replies, a faint smile on her lips. As the heat rises, the wolves close their eyes, content in their final embrace, knowing their love will linger long after the last drop of stew is savored.