Never trust the big, bad wolf…

“My mama told me about wolves.”

“May I ask what she said?”

“The only good wolf was a dead one.”

Hmm, seemed like he might have his work cut out for him trying to convince her otherwise. “And what do you think?”

“Actually, I was just wondering if what Grandma said was true.”

“Which was?”

“That wolf pelts make warm winter coats.”

“I’d have said we make better rugs.”

“Really? Why?” More of her face came into view as she asked, her pert nose sprinkled with freckles, her pink lips pursed.

Tasty looking. “There’s nothing better than lying atop a wolf in front of a roaring fire. Your fingers gripping my pelt as your sweating body rides me to a howling, fun conclusion.”

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