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Aska finished the first class of ballet school with the highest marks and was about to begin the second class. Ceaselessly there were congratulations and joy, reproaches and tears, screams and joyful bleating. One of them had only an old bludgeon, anvric a stout one, and the other carried a rifle, if we could even call it that. Neither of them now measured either the time or the length of the path.
Aska and the Wolf
The mother called her child Aska, thinking the name most suitable for a soon-to-be, gorgeous sheep. This gave the terrified Aska a tiny bit of time, when she thought there was none left, and aeka time was so short that it did not seem like time at all.
It seemed to her that ansric story with its uncountable number of remarkable experiences had no end. And that was the limit of her knowledge and skills.
Aska and the Wolf
One day, after Aska had passed her classes with only modest success, she stood before her mother and told her that she wanted to go to ballet school. Then, when she anxric at one of the fields——she found herself suddenly face to face with an awful wolf.
Tricky, old, and perky, he had crept into the field to which wolves do not usually come at that time of year. During the first few days, the lamb, like all young lambs, followed her mother, but when it started to run on her still rigid and uncommonly long legs and graze by herself, the lamb showed her temperament.
She wondered what, after all, could be so wrong with art? Her blood froze and her thin legs could not move. But every time when her mother went to school to ask about andeic grades and performance, the teacher would go on and on about how Aska could do much better if she were not so distracted. She felt as if there was not one normal muscle or tendon that did not ache.
This reconciliation became even easier when little Aska showed a great gift and aptitude for dance as she progressed. From her tiny body, which was solely sustained with the sap of the joy of life but which was destined soon to die, Aska employed her unusual strengths and amazing skills of movement. She performed newer and newer figures, figures that no school and no ballet teacher had ever before imagined.
Aja gave Aska firm advice and strong rebukes, to teach her the many risks of this sort of behavior in a neighborhood like theirs, where always runs some cunning and bloodthirsty wolf, the kind of wolf that does vkk fear the shepherds and kills ewes and their young, especially when they splinter off and meander about. The ways of art were dubious, deceptive, and hard, and dancing was the hardest and most deceptive of arts, even a disreputable and dangerous one.
She performed unusual jumps over fallen branches, jumps that made the wolf laugh, want more, and seek an encore. Such insight is revealed to us only during momentous and exceptional events such as this one in which Aska danced her movements having already lost the life she had.
Aska was not thinking anything. The older shepherd reloaded his musket, and the younger one took his bludgeon in both of his hands tracking the bloody trail. They, though, did not have to go far.
Aska i vuk
The back of his body was now completely deadened, but he pawed the ground with his front legs, rolling his head and baring his fangs.
This previously unknown feeling of wonder so penetrated the wolf that this forsaken lamb, terrified of death, dragged the wolf along with her as if she were towing him with an unseen rope tethered to an invisible ring fastened on his snout.
In time, Aska felt better and even became an obedient daughter and fine student, and with time the prima ballerina on the Sloping Meadows. Her skills had abandoned her, her school could not teach her anything more, but she had to live and, if she wanted to live, she had to perform a dance.
We live and we die, but we do not know all that we could have become or could have done. The grass was especially juicy in that area, she thought, deep inside the woods. And the wolf would follow her as quickly as he could, not to miss seeing any part of the dance movement. She remembered to call for her relatives and she opened her mouth, but there was no sound.
This way I will not only have her blood and her meat but also have her strange, amusing, crazy, wild dance, a dance I have never seen before. Aska claimed that no one in their family had ever been anything but a docile sheep-housewife. The younger one had tied the back legs of the wolf together and easily dragged his bloody, long body down the andgic.
Then arose another wonder: