The wolf approached the man as it usually did, appearing out of nowhere after sensing his presence from far away, seeing the man walk towards him, appearing lost and somewhat weak. He approached trying to appear as docile as an alpha wolf could ever be. The man was tall with bushy dark hair, thick eyebrows …
She collected her tears in a bowl. The bowl collected her tears by itself. A shiny bowl a fairy promised would eventually fill up. “Once it fills, you will make a wish, a wish that I promise will come true my dear one”
He stepped inside the room, a wooden table facing him, a shiny object on top of it. There was no light on the room, it was twilight and the sun was opposite to the door, some photons reaching surfaces almost randomly just to be able to reach his eyes.
“When I thought I had forgotten you, you came back” he said to her, in tears.
The end of the story is all that matters, why? Because a story is just as good as the ending itself. A king is no The King without The Crown, just as a story is never great without a Great ending.