'Okay, okay, I was joking,' Ksyusha said more seriously. 'He fell down and died. They buried him and went off to celebrate.'
'I'm f-f-frightened,' Romka confessed. He wasn't stammering because he was afraid, though – he always stammered. 'Don't t-tell me any m-m-more, all right?'
'All right,' said Ksyusha, looking round. She could still see the path behind them, but ahead it was completely lost under fallen pine needles and rotting leaves. The forest had suddenly become gloomy and menacing. Nothing at all like it was near the village where their mother had rented their summer dacha – an old house that no one lived in any more. They'd better turn back, before it was too late. As a caring older sister, Ksyusha realised that.
'Let's go home, or mum will tell us off.'
'A doggy,' her brother said suddenly. 'Look, a doggy!'
Ksyusha turned round.
There really was a dog standing behind her. A large, grey dog with big teeth. Looking at her with its mouth open, just as if it was smiling.
'I want a doggy like that,' Romka said without stumbling over the words at all, and looked at his sister proudly.
Ksyusha was a city girl and she'd only ever seen wolves in pictures. And in the zoo as well, only those were an exotic species from somewhere in Asia . . .
But now she felt suddenly afraid.
'Let's go, let's go,' she said quietly, tightening her grip on Romka's hand. 'It's someone else's doggy, you can't play with it.'
Something in her voice must have frightened her brother, frightened him so badly that instead of complaining, he clutched his sister's hand even tighter and followed her without a murmur.
The grey creature stood still for a moment, and then set off after the children at a slow, deliberate walk.
'It's f-following us,' said Romka, looking back. 'Ksyusha, is it a w-wolf?'
'It's a doggy,' said Ksyusha. 'Only don't run, okay? Dogs bite people who run!'
The animal made a coughing sound, as if it was laughing.
'Run!' shouted Ksyusha, and they set off at random, forcing their way through the forest, through the prickly bushes that grasped at them, past an incredibly big anthill as tall as a grown-up, past a row of moss-covered tree-stumps where someone had once cut down ten trees and dragged them away.
The creature kept disappearing and appearing again. Behind them, on the right, on the left. And every now and then it made a noise like a cough . . . or a laugh.
'It's laughing!' Romka shouted through his tears.
It disappeared. Ksyusha stopped beside an immense pine tree, clutching Romka tight against her. Her little brother had given up on sissy stuff like that a long time ago, but this time he didn't struggle, just pressed his back against his sister, put his hands over his eyes in fear and repeated quietly over and over again:
'I'm n-not afraid, I'm n-not afraid. There's no one there.'
'There's no one there,' Ksyusha confirmed. 'And you stop that whining! The wol . . . the doggy had puppies here. She was just driving us away from her puppies. All right? We're going home now.'
'Let's go!' Romka agreed and took his hands away from his eyes. 'Oh, the puppies!'
His fear disappeared instantly the moment he saw the cubs coming out of the bushes. There were three of them – grey with big foreheads and soft eyes.
'P-puppies!' Romka exclaimed in delight.
Ksyusha jerked to one side in panic. The pine she was standing against wouldn't let her go – her calico dress was stuck to the resin on its bark. Ksyusha tugged harder and the cloth tore with a crack and came unstuck.
Then she saw the wolf standing behind her, smiling.
'We have to climb up the tree . . .' Ksyusha whispered.
The wolf laughed.
'Does she want us to play with the puppies?' Romka asked hopefully.
The wolf shook its head. As if it was answering: 'No, no. I want the puppies to play with you . . .'
And then Ksyusha started shouting – so loudly and piercingly that even the wolf took a step backwards and wrinkled up its muzzle.
'Go away, go away!' Ksyusha shouted, forgetting that she was already a big, brave girl.
'Don't shout like that,' she heard a voice say behind her. 'You'll wake up the entire forest . . .'
The children turned round with renewed hope. Standing beside the cubs was a woman – beautiful, with black hair, barefoot and wearing a long linen dress.
The wolf growled menacingly.
'Don't be silly,' said the woman. She leaned down and picked up