The field was filled with flowers. The scent drew the little girl out of the sheltering pines of the forest and into the wide expanse of waving stalks. Those same stalks were the constant reminder of her father, who she had lost years before. As the wind blew, the grass bent down towards the brown earth kissing the hem of her dress. The bees flew up from the vibrant flowers, and the girl felt like dancing like the fairies from her stories. She had always loved springtime, the buds on trees, and the clear skies. 

The little girl picked lilacs in memory of her father. They had always been his favorite flower, and the abundance of them made this field her favorite. 

It was here the little girl met her best friend. He too came to the field to dance with the bees, chasing them around the edges of the field. The girl noticed him playing, and, interested, ventured closer. He was wary of the little girl and shied away from her. As she moved closer, she saw his bony frame and hungry eyes and offered him the sandwich she had brought with her. Cautiously, he accepted.  

Their friendship grew as the days passed. The boy’s initial wariness fell away as he noticed the little girl’s loyalty in returning day after day. He found himself enjoying the time spent together and began to see something more in her than just the gifts she brought.  

Over time, they would play. He chased her, she chased him. Laughter rippled along with the wind in the trees, hair streamed out behind each of them as they ran through the daisies, they yipped when the dew splashed their legs.

The villagers did not notice the little girl was gone every day. If they did, they attributed it to her need to be alone. They gave her her space. However, the girl wanted someone to be there. Her mother paid no attention to her due to the depth of her grief over the loss of her beloved husband. The other inhabitants of the town were older and spent their days farming in the fields. The town was old, her mother was distant, her father dead.

He would cuddle with her when she cried. The boy hated to see his friend upset. He would listen whenever she talked and was there in the field whenever she called for him. He would give her piggy back rides when her feet got sore. They would laugh and play. They would preen each others hair. They would nap together, cushioned against each other. Neither thought their relationship strange. They were just two juveniles enjoying what they could, while they could, enchanted by the other. 

They both thought they would have forever. Surely their friendship could last a lifetime. The man out hunting who saw them together that day through the woods disagreed. 

How could that little girl’s mother let this happen to her daughter? The poor thing. When she lost her father her mother went too. No one heard the widow say anything for the six weeks after her husband’s death. The mother allowing her daughter to have so much freedom had led to danger. Now she was being chased down by that! He raised his bow, took careful aim, and fired. 

She had just pulled his ear, and was running from his playful revenge when she saw the arrow fly from the trees. She turned around mid-step and gripped her friend around his neck in an attempt to shelter him from harm. 

The girl cried out when the arrow hit. Then all was silent. The man felt horrified. He sprinted to the two motionless bodies, connected by one arrow. There was nothing he could do. After, the man went back to the village to tell the little girl’s mother of the dreadful misfortune. The news spread through the town in minutes. 

Some villagers went to the meadow to see for themselves. They returned to the field a few hours later with the mother to mourn and bury the body. To the townspeople, the story ended here. 

But the girl’s side of the story was learned a couple of weeks later when her diaries were read by her mother. It was seen throughout the town as unnatural. However, the girl’s mother went and paid her respects to her daughter’s friend.

He was buried beside the little girl. To this day still, no human or animal has disturbed them. The little girl still lies in the field next to her grey timber wolf.