A clever fox wandered through the vineyard, his eyes gleaming with hunger as he spotted the luscious grapes hanging just out of reach.
"Those grapes look delicious. If only I could reach them," he mused, pacing beneath the vine.
The fox crouched low, his muscles coiling like springs before he leaped into the air.
"I must have those grapes," he grunted, landing back on the ground with a thud.
With a sigh, the fox sat back on his haunches, glaring up at the taunting fruit.
"Those grapes are probably sour anyway," he muttered, trying to convince himself of his indifference.
The fox trotted away from the vineyard, the disappointment still lingering in his heart.
"Perhaps I should seek easier prey next time," he thought, his mind already drifting to other possibilities.
The fox's pride was evident as he left, but so was the lesson he had taught himself.
"It's easy to despise what you cannot have," he realized, a small smile playing on his lips despite the day's failures.