One cold stormy day a Goatherd drove his Goats for shelter into a cave, where a number of Wild Goats had also found their way. A few days later the Shepherd Boy again shouted, Wolf!, Wolf! A little later when he lifted his head, the flock was gone. This is my trick, he called to the Fox. That very same morning a hungry Wolf came by farther up the stream, hunting for something to eat. Very well, growled the North Wind, and at once sent a cold, howling blast against the Traveler. Now her weird hoo-hoo-hoo-oo-oo echoes through the quiet wood, and she begins her hunt for the bugs and beetles, frogs and mice she likes so well to eat. The honey belongs to the Bees.
Greatness has its penalties.