In the golden hills kissed by the setting sun, where the wind whispers ancient secrets to the wild grass, there lived a shepherd named Elias. His days passed to the slow rhythm of the seasons, between the bleating of sheep and the silent complicity of the mountains. But one evening, as shadows stretched like weary fingers across the land, Elias counted his flock and felt his heart tighten: one sheep was missing—the youngest, the most fragile, the one whose eyes always held an insatiable curiosity.
 
Without hesitation, he took his gnarled staff, the one that had borne the weight of so many years, and ventured into the gathering night. One by one, the stars lit their celestial lanterns, guiding his steps along the steep paths. He called the sheep by her name, Light, for she always seemed to seek brightness, even in the darkest corners of the valley.
 
Hours passed. Elias crossed forests where trees whispered forgotten legends, climbed moss-covered rocks, and descended into ravines where water rippled like stifled laughter. The moon, a silent accomplice, illuminated his path, but weariness began to weigh on his limbs. Yet he did not stop. For a shepherd, you see, never leaves a sheep behind.
 
At dawn, as the sky blushed with pink and gold, he finally spotted her. Light was trapped between two rocks, her legs trembling, her fleece tangled with brambles. She looked up at him, and in her eyes, Elias saw all the fear in the world, but also absolute trust. With patient hands, he freed her, held her close, feeling her little heart beat in time with his own.
 
The journey back was long. The sun now rose, gilding the ridges and warming their weary bodies. When they reached the fold, the other sheep bleated with joy, as if singing their relief. Elias sat on a stone, Light nestled against his knees, and he understood that this journey had not been in vain. For sometimes, searching for what is lost is also finding oneself.
 
And to this day, when the wind blows through the hills, they say it carries with it the murmur of a story: that of a shepherd who went to find a lost sheep and returned with far more than he had hoped.