Not long after we reached the waterfall, it was beautiful—just like always.
I spun around happily, showing Mr. Peep all my favorite spots: where the smoothest stones hid, where the water sparkled the brightest, and where I usually found the prettiest little treasures. He bleated softly, as if he understood every word.
Then I heard it.
A rustle from the bushes.
I froze.
I heard it again.
"Mr. Peep," I whispered, pulling him gently behind me.
"Who's there?" I called out.
No answer.
My heart began to pound. Slowly, I picked up a large rock—much heavier than the ones I usually collected.
"Who is it?" I shouted again.
Still nothing.
Thinking it was a fox sneaking around to steal my sheep, I threw the rock straight toward the sound.
A sharp cry followed.
"Ouch!"
I gasped.
Stepping forward, my breath caught in my throat.
It wasn't a fox.
It was a man.
I had never—ever—seen a man before.
He looked like his face had been carved by the gods themselves, sharp and perfect in a way that didn't feel real. His body was strong, broad, and nothing like the women I had grown up around.
I stared.
Too long.
Long enough to forget that I had just thrown a rock at him.
He groaned, clutching his side.
"Why are you just standing there?" he snapped. "Can't you help me? It hurts terribly—or are you that heartless?"
When I heard his voice, my knees nearly gave out.
It was deep… warm… unfamiliar.
I felt like I was floating.
"Hey, Rapunzel," he added, wincing. "Are you going to help me or just stare?"
"Oh! I'm so sorry!" I blurted out. "I thought you were a wolf trying to eat Mr. Peep!"
He frowned. "Who in the world is Mr. Peep—and why would I want to eat him?"
"My sheep," I said quickly, pointing behind me. "It's his first time out here, so I was really worried—"
"Could you stop talking," he interrupted, teeth clenched, "and help me patch this wound?"
"Oh! Yes—of course!"
I rushed to his side, my hands trembling, completely unaware that this wounded stranger was about to change my fate forever.