At one point in time, all wolves were white. Every-single-one. There wasn't another color. One wolf was named Tala (Native-American for wolf). Tala hated the color white and decided to be another color. She went to the nearby Native American village, snuck in quietly, and stole pot of red paint. When she found an open area, she dumped it on the ground to make a puddle. She rolled in the puddle until she was red all over. Then she went to the river to look at her reflection and see her knew color.
When she got to the river, she frowned. "I look horrible in this color," she said. "Red is not my color." So she went back to the Native American village and stole a pot of yellow paint. Tala went back to the open area and dumped the pot on the ground and rolled until she was yellow all over. She went to the river to see the results. She frowned. "I look a dead leaf in autumn," she grumbled. "Yellow is not my color." Again she went to Native American village a stole a pot of green paint. Then she walked to the open area, dumped the pot of paint on the ground and rolled in it. Again, Tala went to the river. Her reflection did not make her happy. "I look like a rotting fruit," Tala complained. "Green is not my color." She went back to the Native American village and stole a pot of blue paint. She dumped it on the open area and rolled in it until every inch of her fur was covered in blue paint. She went to the river and sat down shaking her head. "I look like a night sky," she said. The she asked the river, " River, will you wash the paint off my fur?" "Certainly", said the river.
Tala jumped into the river and rolled until she was clean. "Thank you, River," she said. The River chuckled. "But you did not get all the paint off. All those colors mixed to make gray. You're whole back is covered in gray paint." "Oh, well," Tala grumbled. "It's better than white."
Return to Table of Contents