The snow fell endlessly for days without letting up, covering everything under its thick, white blanket, including the traces of this old story. Whatever happened on that mountain, whatever happened in the meadow, was covered up without a trace to remind those who had witnessed it.

And later, some claim to have remembered Chirin as a lamb. Others said he was a spirit from the mountain. But they were too wrapped up with their own lives to worry about it for long.

Regardless, though peace settled over the land without the shadows of Chirin's and the wolf's hunting, the sheep of the meadow still warned their lambs not to leave the safety of the fence for fear of some terrible unknown creature who lived in the mountains beyond.

Sometimes during the strongest night blizzards, one can hear through the howling wind a sound like the gentle, barely audible ringing of a bell. But nobody has ever seen Chirin again.