Would I hold my hand thus if I were such a murderous beast? Asked the wolf… Would I be thought a monster like you if I howled in horror? Asked the sheep… I howl for pleasure, little sheep! I consume to nourish my sorrow! Scolded the wolf… I do not mean to offend your howling or persuade your hunger, sir. Prayed the sheep…. See my opposing thumb and how it can bring me such pleasure? Inquired the wolf… See my shivering hooves and how they frustrate me significantly? Echoed the sheep… The wind now wails its bitter speech as the wolf skulks nearer. Come! Let us sit next to one another and we shall drink a toast. Said the wolf… I shouldn’t. It’s not right to do so while so many continue to perish. Replied the sheep… Thou art afraid of me, dam? Me? A creature with such manners? Crooned the wolf… No. I- I- I just don’t think it appropriate to toast on this- of all days. Answered the sheep… But this is a day of triumph! Today’s the best day to drink to victory! Howled
(The Weaver's Song)