Bill crouched slowly, holding out a hand, and the pup nuzzled against it. Its fur was thick and soft, its small body warm and surprisingly strong. Bill could feel its tiny heartbeat, rapid but steady, as if it had absorbed some of Daisy’s calm reassurance.
He glanced at Daisy, who stood nearby, watching with an alert but relaxed stance. The cow’s eyes met his, and Bill felt a wave of gratitude toward her. Without her, this pup might not have survived the harsh months it had endured alone in the wild.
“Looks like you’ve done a good job, girl,” Bill murmured to Daisy, scratching behind her ears gently. She let out a soft moo, almost in acknowledgment.
Turning back to the pup, Bill studied its markings: a mix of silvery gray and dark streaks, sharp little ears, and intelligent amber eyes. It seemed to watch him carefully, as if evaluating whether he was friend or foe. But Daisy’s presence seemed to give it confidence.
Bill realized that the pup’s unusual comfort around humans was entirely thanks to Daisy’s protective instincts. Her acceptance had allowed the wolf to trust him—and maybe even bond with humans for the first time.
“Alright,” Bill said softly, “let’s see what we can do to help you grow up strong and healthy. But first… we need a name.” The pup tilted its head curiously. Bill smiled. “How about… Lupo?”
Daisy gave a low, approving moo, and Lupo responded with an enthusiastic yip. Bill laughed quietly. “Looks like that’s settled then.”
For the first time in months, Bill felt a sense of peace settle over the farm. Daisy was safe, Lupo was thriving, and somehow, in the strangest turn of fate, his farm had become a sanctuary for an extraordinary friendship.