The rope tightened, creaked. The wolf pulled down, in short, stubbornly repeated movements, as if he knew exactly what he was doing. “No… no…” Henry whispered, hardly believing his eyes. There was a dry crack. The knot on the branch loosened. Another tug, and the rope snapped. Henry tumbled into the snow. The impact knocked the air from his lungs, and white sparks flashed before his eyes. He groaned, trying to catch his breath, feeling the pain spread through his body. But he was alive. He was lying on the ground. He wasn’t hanging. He slowly turned his head. The wolf was standing nearby. Very close. “Why…?” Henry whispered, his voice trembling. The wolf didn’t answer.
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