A moment of silence hung in the air after Jedd finished his tale. 

While listening, I couldn't help but compare the god in the sky to another being I hoped was up there, though I didn't mention Ambrosia's name to my host. 

"It's a beautiful story," the wolf said, though it knew the man would not understand.

"You're thinking what I told you is impossible to believe, but it's true," Jedd said. "My watch is important. Allowing any harm to come to Lightning's sheep is the greatest sin. Remember that, wolf, should your mouth ever water at the sight of the flock."

When the day was ending Jedd counted the sheep before instructing the wolf to help move the animals from the field. It was a short trek to his home, a modest dwelling with a pen and a short barn attached to the side. We led the sheep into their enclosure and Jedd closed the barn door before latching the gate to the pen.

I wondered what sort of family lived with Jedd inside the home, but when I was invited inside I found no one. The single room was the size of our parent's bedroom, sparsely decorated with a thin mattress stuffed with straw and wool, a few buckets of vegetables, a pot over a stone firepit, and two chests. Inside the first chest were tools like shears and bowls, and the second contained a pile of wool and two robes identical to the one Jedd wore. The home reeked of lanolin, as did its owner, which I attributed to the lengthy hours spent with the flock. 

At the herder's request, I became human, and when I did not move to dress myself, only shielded my dignity with my hands, Jedd raised an eyebrow and pointed to the sack made from the cloak of stars.

"Don't you got clothes in there?" he asked.

"No, sir. Only a tapestry."

Jedd sighed and retrieved a spare robe from the second chest.

"Don't have more than the three."

"I'll be careful with it," I promised. 

He didn't ask about the tapestry or the beautiful bag that held it, giving me the impression he was not a man prone to curiosity. Instead, he set his focus to work and lit a fire under the pot in the firepit. As there were no chairs, I took my seat across from him on the ground and watched as he stoked the embers to life and prepared our meal. The floor was littered with straw, and I absent-mindedly collected a few straws to bend and weave together. 

"Wife was taken by a titan," Jedd offered without prompt, "and we had no children. Don't mind the solitude anymore. The holy work keeps me busy."

He filled two bowls with broth and vegetables, but when I reached to pick up my spoon he lightly slapped my hand.

"We pray before eating."

He bowed his head and I followed.

Jedd went on at length about the greatness of Lightning and the nobility of sheep. He talked about bountiful crops and mild seasons. His sermon was so long that the steam left our food. My stomach was screaming but I remained silent.

When Jedd finished he nodded to signal we could eat, and I dove into my bowl with giddy fervor.

The most delicious flavors I'd ever tasted hit my tongue.

Jedd had not been boasting when he spoke of the food before, and when a spoonful of green and orange and purple entered my mouth my tastebuds sang. In a blink, my bowl was empty and my mouth was watering for more. Jedd served a second helping with a wink.

"Didn't I tell you, boy? This is the food of a god. You'll never find anything better."

I believed him.

"I didn't know vegetables could taste this good," I said. 

The man smiled, proud of my praise, and refilled his own bowl.

Four servings in, I began to suspect the food was enchanted. My stomach was begging me to stop but my tongue was dancing with each bite.

How did a herder produce this wonderful food?

Midway through the fifth bowl, my body began to revolt, threatening to expel what I'd eaten if I dared another spoonful. I set the bowl down and sighed, caught between satisfaction and pain. I'd never been so full, and I felt that if I stood and took one step my body would split open like a crushed berry.

Equally sated, Jedd released a long belch. I followed him and snickered just a little at the sound.

"Holy work is hungry work," he said as he took a long straw from his hat and slipped it into his mouth to chew on. "It will be better with a bit of company, I think. If you choose to stay."

With such food as my reward, how could I resist? I was already looking forward to the next meal.

Jedd gave me a blanket, and what I assumed would be an uncomfortable night on the packed dirt floor turned out to be nothing of the sort. The fire from the pit warmed the small room to a comfortable temperature, and with my body sluggish from eating dreams found me in no time at all.

Jedd rose before the sun and prepared a breakfast that consisted of the same food as dinner—

And it was just as tasty.

As I ate, Jedd watched me and every so often released a soft laugh.

"Been years since I've seen someone's first taste of Lightning's food. It'll always be that good, I promise. One of the many miracles of our god."

At sunrise, we took the sheep from the barn and gently drove them into the lush fields. The titans hadn't moved during the night but stood in the same place as the previous day.

"Titans don't sleep," Jedd explained, "but they don't walk at night. I suspect their sight is limited and the dark makes them near blind. Another miracle." He patted the last of the sheep passing by. "All right, go on and release the hound."

I hid in the tall grass as I disrobed, though I needn't have, for Jedd had no interest in watching me. The wolf laid my folded robe at the herder's feet after. He seemed apprehensive of the animal and I couldn't blame him. He was entrusting the safety of his divine sheep to a wolf, after all.

The day passed in undisturbed tranquility. The plains were charmed by peace, where the distant titans proved the sole threat. A few times Jedd nodded off, but woke himself after a minute or two and returned to his watch. When his head jerked up from the fourth short nap, Jedd whistled the wolf to his side and declared it was time for a midday meal, which consisted of vegetables and bread.

"Don't know if you'll enjoy this," Jedd admitted as he offered a stalk of green, "it might be best to turn back into—"

He'd barely finished before the wolf swallowed the stalk and licked its lips, then looked at the man with hungry eyes, waiting for more.

"Lighting's mercy, even a wolf is satisfied."

"Thank you," the wolf said as it took a portion of pumpkin from the man.

"I had a feeling you'd enjoy it, but couldn't be sure until I saw it with my own eyes. Our god works in wondrous ways, doesn't He?"

Jedd pulled a book from the burlap sack he carried to the field every day. On its cover were the words, 'Pasture Pleasantry'.

"Never had an interest in reading as a child, but the older I get the more pleasing I find it. This is poetry written by a scribe of the plains. This one here is my favorite."

He read aloud for some length, reciting words that described the rustic life of his people. In my mind, I could see clear pictures of rolling wheat fields filled with happy people and sheep. They danced through their paradise, under a sky that was dark but never dangerous, where the sun shined down to warm their faces and keep their existence free of complications.

Their peace was passed to me through Jedd's soothing voice until the wolf found its eyelids growing heavy.

"Tried writing my own poetry," Jedd said, stirring the animal from imminent slumber, "but I never had the right speech for it. Suits me just fine to read and admire the words of another."

At the approach of dusk, we led the sheep back to their barn. The wolf remained firm but gentle with them, and never once looked at the flock with a hungry eye.

Like me, it was interested in filling its stomach with more of Lightning's savory bounty.

"Where do you get the vegetables?" I asked Jedd as I ate my second bowl. "I haven't seen a garden near your home or in the field."

"And you won't," he replied, "there's a communal plot an hour's walk away where the people of the plains gather after the full moon. We have a kind of small celebration. We take what we need for the upcoming month, trade stories and, if necessary, tools. We turn our wool into clothing and blankets there, too. Lightning's vegetables never wither, and we don't have to worry about food being wasted. We simply harvest what we need until the next full moon."

"Who tends the garden?"

"Lightning. No seeds are planted or watered. No weeds grow. Everything we need is there, provided by Him. The vegetables we eat now were taken twenty days ago, and see—they're as fresh as the day they ripened."

"So there are other herders?"

"We're the people of the plains, aren't we? There were twelve families at the birth of Lightning's followers. From them, more families came. Our numbers grew so we divided the twelve staffs equally. Those with larger families live close together to access Lightning's gifts when needed. I'm the exception of my people and remain alone."

"If you're alone...what will happen to your sheep if you...you know..."

"The flock I tend to will be passed to another family when I'm gone."

"I see."

"It's been my nature to seek solitude since childhood. I miss my wife, but I've found peace as a man devoted solely to my god."

"You could find another wife."

"I could, but it's not my desire to try. I like my life the way it is."

I understood him, for since Ambrosia's death, I wanted the same. No friends and family meant I had no one to lose, and those I might come to love were better off without the death that followed me.

For the next few days, we followed a simple routine. Jedd and I woke before dawn to eat and prepare for the day, then led the sheep to the fields. Around midday, we ate again and Jedd recited poetry, while the wolf basked in the sun that broke through the black clouds to shine over the vibrant landscape. At the end of the day, we moved the sheep into the barn and had simple conversation over dinner. Jedd and I rarely spoke outside of our evening chats, and I was never asked about where I had come from or what my life was like before the plains.

Sleep. Eat. Watch sheep. Listen to poetry. Eat. Sleep.

It was a lovely way to live, I found, without any expectation beyond the same few tasks. In the time I spent watching the flock nothing came to threaten the animals, and the only warning of danger remained in the unmoving titans miles away.

The repetition never grew tedious, nor did I desire anything new to excite the quiet days and nights. I greeted each morning with enthusiasm and dove into every meal, which always consisted of vegetables and bread, with the same appreciation and delight as the first.

The sun was warm. Jedd's poetry was soothing. The food never lacked flavor.

Life was bliss.

Until it wasn't.

"Look to your right, wolf!" Jedd shouted above the rain as he raised his staff. "One's got a mind to move!"

The wolf turned just in time to see a bolt of lightning descend upon the head of a titan.

Its leg was raised to step toward us.