You’ve lived in Meadowshire all your life, as there are almost no other options. The nearest towns are many miles away and nobody owns anything faster than a carriage. Your father, and his father before him, and so on have worked as the shepherds of the largest flock in the town, earning a great deal of respect from the villagers and becoming as close to aristocrats in everything but wealth. Now it’s your turn.

There is just one thing they didn’t tell you: your town has a bit of a “wolf problem.”

Wolves killed your grandfather. Wolves took your father’s left hand. And the wolves are determined to take something from you as well.

As of late, the wolf population has severely dwindled due to over-hunting, more accurately called a crusade. Everyone you know is always jumping at the chance to kill another wolf, to remove the threat hanging over everyone’s heads.

You’ve cried wolf twice before, but the beasts always slip away just before the calvary comes in. The town thinks you’re lying, that you’re playing up everyone’s struggles with the animals for a laugh. Today when disaster strikes, nobody even gets out of bed.

You’d better hope that the wolves decide to play nice.