I’m just an animal you call, but won’t come

-sneaks in-

With a great heave, the little red wolf completed her deposit into the pack's cache. It was probably her fourth one this month, though each deposit was at best modest in its contribution. At least it would feed one mouth, preferably a very, very small mouth. Ever since she had been given the task of pursuing "gamekeeper"--whatever that meant--she had tried her best to hunt down game and store it. Unfortunately, she was a poor hunter, and though she was good at running, it was usually away from predators. Often, she would find herself running alongside her prey, forgetting to attack. So when she spied the tall and trim athlete of a wolf, she could only merely stare in admiration. Oh! How did he soar! He was like a veritable arrow shooting through the air, hitting his target with deadly precision. Yes, there was a hiccup near the end, but the poor hunter barley noticed. Instead, when all of the dust settled she could stand back and bark enthusiastically. It was her form of applause.