Under the roots of an old oak tree, in a cozy little den, lived a small gray wolf cub named Sirko. He had soft gray fur, pointy ears, and big brown eyes.
Whenever Sirko came out of his den, all the other animals would run away. Squirrels scampered up to the highest branches. Hares hid in the bushes. Even the birds stopped singing.
"Why does everyone run from me?" Sirko asked his grandmother sadly.
"Because you're a wolf, my dear. They've always been afraid of us," she said.
But Sirko didn't want to frighten anyone. He loved listening to the birds sing. He loved the rustle of leaves and the babble of the stream.
One evening, Sirko sat in a clearing and hummed softly to himself. He was trying to copy the cuckoo's song he'd heard that morning.
"Cuckoo, cuckoo," he sang.
From behind a tree, a tiny squirrel named Rudka peeked out. She tilted her head and listened.
"Was that you singing?" she asked in surprise.
Sirko was startled and wanted to run away, but Rudka didn't run. She came closer.
"You know the cuckoo's song!" she said. "And I know the wind's song. Want me to teach you?"
So they sat together until sunset. Rudka showed Sirko how the wind whistles through the pines. Sirko taught her how the thunder rumbles.
The next morning, all the animals gathered near the old oak tree. They heard strange music coming from the clearing. It was Sirko and Rudka singing the sounds of the forest.
Tsvirka the titmouse joined in. Then Vukhan the hare. Even old Kolyucha the hedgehog came to listen.
"Let's start a forest orchestra!" Sirko said.
And every evening, the animals met in the clearing. Each brought his own sound. The squirrels clicked their nuts. The hares thumped their paws. The birds trilled their songs. And Sirko wove all the sounds into one big song.
The forest filled with music. Now, when Sirko came out of his den, no one ran away. Instead, they all hurried to join him.
That night, as the moon rose over the clearing, Sirko lay beside his grandmother. Far away, he could hear the forest orchestra playing.
The little wolf smiled and closed his eyes. Outside, the leaves rustled in the dark, as if the forest itself was singing him a lullaby.