The wolf often passed the small house at the edge of the woods when the sun went down. Through one bright window, he could see people sitting very still at a table, their faces lit by a pale glow. He stayed hidden among the trees, watching quietly, curious but cautious.
Inside, the people moved their hands across a flat board and tapped it with their fingers. The wolf tilted his head, trying to understand why they stared so hard at the glowing square in front of them. Sometimes they smiled or frowned, and sometimes they sighed, and the wolf wondered what could hold their attention for so long.
After a while, the lights in the house dimmed and the people stood up and walked away. The glow disappeared, and the window went dark. The wolf turned back toward the woods, deciding that whatever the people were doing must be important to them, even if he would never quite understand it.
