A lamb ,tired of life in the pastures, joins a pack of wolves, but wolves don't need little lambs to slow them down, and they are very hungry.

Lambert saw a dandelion first when he was born, unlike most lambs who saw grass when they popped out of their mother and rolled into the emerald shards in which they would spend the rest of their lives. On the patch of grass Lambert fell into, grew a solitary dandelion, sticking up its petals higher than all the grass in Rochester farm.

For several days after his birth, to the Farmer's great awe, Lambert didn't move an inch nor did he baa, all he did was watch the dandelion tower ,like the sun, over the grass, or so it seemed. The Farmer pushed his palm on Lambert's fluffy chest over six times to make sure he wasn't dead, and to his great relief, Lambert stood up on his frail legs and trembled towards the dandelion. Lambert ate the dandelion. Convinced he was hallucinating, the Farmer trudged into his barn satisfied that ,at least, the lamb was alive.

Unsurprisingly, Lamberts first seven hundred and ninety-four words were grass (sheep have over one hundred thousand words for grass). Apart from the sky and fences, grass was the only thing sheep ever saw. Lambert layed in it, played on it, kicked it, picked it, rolled in it, spat on it but never, ever ate it. Who's ever heard of a lamb that doesn't eat grass?

The End

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