Sheep In Wolf's Clothing Meaning Novels & Stories

Oritha and Raiden who were now updated of the strange situation awaited further instructions from Zen who was close enough to confirm his suspicions. Zen never thought the saying ‘wolf in sheep’s clothing’ would take a literal turn. The hairier legs of the wolf exposed it. Using the skin of a sheep laid above its head, the wolf managed to disguise itself as a sheep. Unlike the village that had more white sheep than coloured ones, it was easier for the wolf to blend in with Raiden’s coloured flock. It had a black snout, now stained red with the fresh blood of the new sheep he killed and hid beneath his fluffy white coat. It was such a smart move that the non-observant shepherds would miss. Sh

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Instead, I subtly moved my fingers to ease the tensed muscles in my arm. And then he loosened his grip. “Ambrose may be a simpleton…but he’s not stupid.” Rum sighed and grabbed his forehead. “You humans have this thing: a wolf in a sheep’s clothing.” He looked over with a stern gaze. "That's exactly what Ambrose is." "Are you a sheep in a wolf's clothing?" I smiled, trying to cheer him up. He blinked twice then cast a deadpan look. "Very funny." And my smile turned sheepish.

I sit up slowly, rubbing my temple. “You think I don’t know that?” I whisper bitterly, my throat dry. “But what if he’s pretending? What if this calm, steady version of him is just a trick? What if, the second I let my guard down and accept him, he shows his true colours and suddenly he becomes everything I feared?" My voice lowers to a whisper. “He’s still a wolf, not a sheep. And I’ve heard the saying—‘a wolf in sheep’s clothing". Silence.

And to many others, he was known as the sheep in wolf's clothing. Some creative ass started that stupid phrase ever since he let some fairy beat him up. At the time, Radyn wanted to fight back but he saw it as an opportunity to 'accidentally' ruin his family's reputation. The wolf that surrendered and cried for help. It was perfect. Everyone saw through his loss but no one dared to point it out. The bell rang again.

A few seconds of silence happened when the night sky was illuminated with colorful shades of glitters exploding and falling like snow consecutively. Pleasing to the eyes are these popping glowing flowers, yet I always keep in mind Dandeline's presence beside me. I can't resist staring at her although those lethargic eyes she has are the opposite of the cheerful lights. I lick my lips quickly to be ready for the words. "Have you seen the... sheep here?" "Of course, we've come across the farm." "Mostly in tales, sheep is the favorite meal of the wolves." "Yes, similar to the piggery of mankind."

“You can’t wear this.” The smile on her face dropped. “What do you mean I can’t wear this? What’s wrong with my clothes?” “They’re too…” I racked my mind for a word, my eyes trailing up the shorts. “Provocative! Yes, that’s the word.” “Well, these are the least provocative clothes I have, so… Plus no one ever really minded the clothes at Andre’s pack.” My eyes widened. “You wore these in front of other wolves?!” She took a few steps back. “What’s the problem here?”

My wolf surged to the top, reckless, tired,and pacing. Then finally. “What!?” The only word that escaped my throat. Warmth bled from Tyran's eyes as his expression turned to stone. “Think about it,” he said, raising his hands to the air. “The missing documents, the proposal, and the all of a sudden schedule.” My heart pounded violently. So he knew? He had noticed! I was damn right! Like, I wasn't imagining things. I'd thought about this, didn't I? Tyran leaned forward, his voice, dropped to a whisper. He said the words that sent a shiver straight down my spine. “I think, there is a wolf in sheep's clothing who is after your ruin this pack.”

I held her wrist, “Maybe a little?” She did not loosen her grip on me and continued, “Whatev! So, what are you guys wearing to the Mating ball?” Jannet shrugged, “I don’t know. Jeans? Anything that keeps me away from the gaze of…” she jerked her head to her right, indicating the wolves present in the class. Since some of the wolves in the lecture room had good senses, we used code words and expressions when they were present around. “Oh, come on! What’s wrong with being hit on by a wolf? They are hot, smart, and hold the key to status and money. Imagine some muscular wolf inviting you for a dance at the ball and later saying ‘mate’ in his husky voice.”

River doesn’t seem to mind being pet by my little sister. But the wolf at my back doesn’t say much. I can’t figure him out. Sometimes I feel like he doesn’t like me at all, and other times, I feel like he likes me too much. I don’t think he even knows himself. He won’t talk to me, yet every time I trip, he’s there to keep me from falling, and he hands me berries he plucks from the bushes. He makes sure I drink when we come to freshwater. I keep the knife he gave me close in my back pocket though. I know I have little reason to trust him, but still my gut tells me I’m safe with him and he’d never hurt me. That he’s not a big bad wolf I need to be afraid of. But I’ve read stories about wolves