Once, there was a wolf named Mang. In his prime, he was pushed off a cliff by a herd of buffalo and lost both his eyes.

Mang was angry, for none of those buffalo had eyes as sharp as his, yet it was he who fell.

Mang wandered through the valley for a long time until he met another wolf named Xia. Xia said, "Follow me. We will soon catch up to the migrating herd." So, Mang followed Xia, climbing hills and crossing ravines, traveling tirelessly.

Xia told Mang, "Times are hard. We can't match the strength of the buffalo, but we can pretend to be dogs, begging for scraps to fill our bellies." Mang did not object. Chewing on bones was better than fighting cattle for grass.

Each day, Xia told Mang stories: a tiger with a toothache, a fat brown bear, a sheep scared thin, and a lost buffalo. Mang could only listen.

One day, a thick fog covered the forest, and Mang lost Xia. Instead, he met an old wolf. Mang couldn’t identify him by scent but knew it was a wolf, for only wolves make new sentences. Dogs repeat the same words, and buffalo have no language.

"Are you a wolf or a dog?" the old wolf asked.

"I am a wolf," said Mang, feeling threatened.

"I'm seeking lush grasslands. Do you know the way?" asked the old wolf.

"You see, I am blind," Mang replied.

"What of your instinct?" the old wolf asked.

Mang became silent.

"Then you are not a wolf. You are a dog," the old wolf said, disappointed, and left.

Mang stood quietly for a long time. He had lived like a dog; why claim to be a wolf and bring shame upon himself?

Soon, Xia found him. But days passed, and the fog did not lift.

At last, Mang said to Xia, "Follow me. I will lead us to the grasslands."