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They warned the young one about everything.
The mud. The cold. The wolf, in case it came.
Before drinking, a warning. Before running, a warning. Before looking at anything, a warning.
The young one grew up with tight shoulders. Learned to stop at doorways. To smell the air first.
Everything carried the same weight. The wind. The dark. The water.
The day the wolf came, the young one recognized it.
The smell was exactly what they’d been shown.
The problem was everything else smelled exactly the same.
The young one stood still.
Moral
Warn against everything
and nothing warns anymore.
The wolf knows this.