A Puch ran through the steppe. He was hungry and was looking for prey. Then he heard a bear and a lion fighting over a dead fawn that was lying nearby. He had caught the calf, so he gave it to me,”

The Puch stopped in his tracks, instinctively understanding the danger of approaching the two predators. But as he watched from the shadows, he recalled the fawn. The calf had been a creature he had once helped. The memory tugged at his conscience, for he had not caught it to feed himself, but had tried to save it from a similar fate.

Back then, the Puch had come across the young calf lost and alone, separated from its mother. The Puch had guided it towards a stream where he hoped it might find safety and water. He had given it what little he could—a chance. But the harshness of the steppe often turned fate against the gentle, and the calf had fallen victim to the cruel reality of survival.