A pack of wolves that hunts for fools has been starving lately. They look for prey but there's none today or tomorrow or any day soon.
It's been a dry week, none falling for any trick, none at all stupid.
The wolves starve and one by one they die without a backup plan, no chance to recover. The forest is now peaceful, no reason to be fearful, the land has now been cleansed.
Kids went out to play but much to their dismay a single wolf was left, it looked hurt and alone. They went to cure his aches, but with that he makes, them become a meal again.
The lonely wolf is sated, the towns fears corroborated, there is a new kind of fool.
One filled with compasion, with misplaced satisfaction, in helping ones in need. And that will make him bleed.