. The entire Wolf Kingdom was like this; the residents lived and worked in peace and contentment.
As for Big Brother Wolf and the others—
Princess Snow White and the Prince had already departed for the Poseidon Empire.
On the day they left, the entire kingdom went to see them off.
The farewell procession stretched from the castle all the way to the edge of the forest.
The animals drove small wooden carts, cheering them on the whole way.
The Prince's white horse held its head high and neighed, the bells on its silver saddle jingling softly with every step.
The golden-threaded curtains of the carriage were pulled back, and Princess Snow White poked her head out, her handkerchief embroidered with roses tracing a gentle arc in the wind.
"Gwof, and everyone else," her voice sounded as if it were dipped in honey.
"Why don't you all come along too?"
Twenty knights in gleaming armor sat with straight backs, swords in hand. Their horses' hooves made a rhythmic "clip-clop" on the stone road, each step resonating in everyone's hearts.
As they passed Gwof, the lead knight raised his hand in a standard military salute, his eyes beneath the helmet twinkling with a smile.
Although the Princess had invited them, they had all declined.
The others had their reasons for refusing, and while Gwof certainly wanted to go, he didn't want to go just yet.
And so, after about a dozen days had passed, Gwof could no longer sit still.
At first, his favorite thing to do was stroll around the square with his picture books tucked under his arm.
Seeing Mrs. Pig clutching a book and wiping away tears, hearing Mr. Ox sighing over the pages, and spotting Mr. Fox secretly dabbing the corners of his eyes with the tip of his tail...
He always managed to hold back his laughter, a sense of triumph from a successful prank welling up inside him—see, these folks who always hoped for a happy ending were finally tasting the bitterness of "regret."
But as the days went by, this satisfaction was like sugar soaked in water, gradually fading away.
The animals' enthusiasm for discussing the ending cooled down, and people started urging him to write a new story. Even Little Bottle chimed in, saying he wanted to be the "Devil of Justice" in the next tale.
Gwof gripped his charcoal pencil and stared blankly at the empty paper, suddenly feeling as though this little cottage and this forest could no longer contain him.
"Where do you want to go for fun?" Little Bottle asked, approaching him after seeing him lost in thought while looking out the window.
He could now skillfully transform into a burly man, though his bald head always reminded people of his original form.
Gwof didn't look back, his fingertips tapping on the table. "I want to go find something new."
Something new? Like more powerful magic? Like legends he'd never heard before? Like the protagonists of the Fairy Tale World he'd heard in his previous life?
He suddenly remembered something Groot had told him before—the King of the Anvil Kingdom was said to have a blue beard.
The citizens trembled at the mention of him, saying he was an incredibly cruel monarch.
"Anvil Kingdom..." Gwof murmured, a glint of interest flashing in his eyes.
It was time to become a passing hero.
He stood up, the wooden chair letting out a "creak" as it scraped against the floor.
He walked to the desk, carefully stacked the manuscript of romeo and juliet, and tucked it into an oak drawer.
Then he pulled the Divine Cloth from his robe and gave it a little shake, holding it by the corner—a warmth crept up through his fingertips, as if reminding him that this wasn't just a fantasy.
"Little Bottle, go pack your things."
"Master, where are we going?"
Little Bottle's eyes went wide, and his scales (though he was in his burly man form, hints of scales could still be seen when he got excited) almost bristled.
"Are we going to fight? I'll go sharpen my vines right now! Or is it a treasure hunt? I know there's a mountain near the Anvil Kingdom where you can dig gems out of the rocks!"
Gwof watched his impatient look and suddenly thought it would be fun to tease him.
He took a few steps toward the door. The sunlight shone diagonally through the lintel, casting half his face in shadow, but his lips curled into a sly arc. He spoke slowly, as if whispering sweet nothings:
"I'm going to the distant horizon to keep a romantic date."
"A date?" Little Bottle was stunned, his thick eyebrows knitting into a knot... Gwof had chosen to go out and travel.
Normally, someone would have followed him.
However, Gray Mouse had to attend Old Rat's birthday celebration.
Groot was busy carving romeo and juliet.
As for Psyche... since Groot wasn't going, she certainly wouldn't, not to mention that Gwof was also bringing a devil along.
So, this trip would just be Gwof and the devil.
And so, they had breakfast in the dining room that morning.
They ate this breakfast that was hearty yet carried a hint of the bitterness of parting.
Gwof sat at the table, a pumpkin pancake in hand, watching Little Bottle wolf down his food across from him.
The fellow had likely spent all his "packing" time thinking about breakfast. His backpack was flat, stuffed only with a Divine Cloth and two or three roasted potatoes. Right now, he was guzzling from a bowl of porridge, muttering indistinctly:
"Master, can we hunt on the way? I know of a kind of White-lipped Deer with meat so tender it's practically juicy. It's great roasted with a bit of salt..."
"Behave yourself."
Gwof curled his finger and gave the back of the other's hand a light rap.
The steam from the rim of the bowl blurred Little Bottle's face. He let out a couple of chuckles, revealing two rows of sharp teeth, then quickly stuffed another pumpkin pancake into his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a Squirrel hoarding food.
At the other end of the dining table, Big Brother Wolf had remained silent.
Today, he wore a gray cloth tunic. He was slowly tearing a piece of smoked meat with his hands, his gaze fixed on Gwof's empty bowl.
Suddenly, he reached out and handed over the shredded strips of meat, placing them gently into Gwof's bowl. The action wasn't exactly tender, but it carried an earnestness that brooked no refusal.
Gray Mouse then also tore off a piece of meat and placed it in Gwof's bowl.
Seeing this, Groot also put a chicken leg into Gwof's bowl.
Meanwhile, Psyche, sitting next to Groot, hesitated for a long time.
She looked at the food piling up in Gwof's bowl, then at Groot, who was bowing his head to gnaw on some bread beside her, and quietly picked up the chicken leg from her own plate, placing it gently into Groot's bowl.
Looking at the "little mountain" in his bowl, Gwof didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
He couldn't let such kindness go to waste, so he picked up his spoon and began eating, mouthful by mouthful—the smoked meat was savory, the roasted sausage was succulent, the chicken leg was crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, and even the berries Gray Mouse had provided were perfectly sweet.
Having mostly finished his own meal, Little Bottle rested his chin on his hand and watched him eat, occasionally offering a word of encouragement:
"Eat up, Master! It won't taste good once it's cold! I still have potatoes in my bag; take more if that's not enough!"
By the time Gwof finally finished all the food in his bowl, he felt his stomach was as bloated as a round ball, and he even had to breathe carefully.
He leaned back against the chair, rubbing his stomach as he surveyed the mess on the table and the group before him—Big Brother Wolf was helping Gray Mouse wipe the grease off his paws, Psyche was telling Groot an interesting story, and Little Bottle was secretly licking the leftover honey off a plate.