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Max was a punk wolf through and through. He spent his days smoking weed, drinking, and getting into fights every chance he got. He didn't care about anything or anyone, and he certainly didn't care about the law. To him, rules were meant to be broken, and he made sure to break them as often as possible, evident by the "fuck the police" sticker slapped against the bumper of his supped-up Skoda. However, one day, everything changed.

Max had been walking home alone from a late-night party, feeling the effects of his excessive drinking, when he, in his drunken stupor, pushed past an older wolf gentleman who had been trudging down the street. He wore the smallest hint of a moustache and thick overpowering eyebrows, his yellow eyes radiating in the pale moonlight, sending a slight shiver through Max's body as he locked eyes with him.

"Oi, watch where yer goin', ya old git," the young punk spat, the alcohol coursing through him boosting his bravado to the extreme.

The man looked at him sternly and replied calmly, "You need to change your ways, young man."

Max scoffed at the comment, shoving his fingers up in the air before turning to walk on; what a weird arrogant prick, Max thought as he rested against a lamppost, trying to regain his composure. However, as he made his way back home something about the encounter stuck with him. As he continued to stumble down the street he couldn't shake the feeling that he did actually need to change his ways.

The next morning, Max woke up feeling different. He felt a strange energy coursing through his body, like something had shifted within him. He barely noticed the cleaner walls and the missing discarded cigarettes that normally scattered his bedside table; the cracked mirror now glistened as if it were new, and the freshly-pressed clothes were laid out neatly for the day ahead. Max thought nothing of it as he got ready and decided to take a walk, hoping to clear his head that seemed to throb with severe intensity.

The moment he stepped outside the apartment complex, he noticed things he had never seen before: the trees were greener, the sky was bluer, and the air was fresher. He felt a sense of peace he had never felt before.

Nevertheless, as he made his way down the street, he noticed that something was different about himself. His leather jacket had been replaced with a button-up shirt, his jeans had been replaced with khakis, and his boots had been replaced with dress shoes. He didn't know what was happening to him, but something inside of him just decided to embrace it. He made his way to the local church, something he had never done before, and entered the doors noticing an even greater sense of calm wash over him. As he entered, he was greeted by the sight of people singing hymns and praying. Max, who had never been religious before, felt something about the atmosphere in the church being comforting to him. Without a second thought, he found himself joining in with the singing as if he had known the words all his life, his voice rising in harmony with the others.

After the service, Max found himself talking to the pastor who spoke to him about the teachings of the Bible, and Max listened intently. He was fascinated by the idea of redemption, of being forgiven for one's sins; of course, these were all things Max had heard time and time again over the twenty years of his life, him having always been going to church since he was a small child.

Max talked to the pastor, a wolf with thick eyebrows and powerful yellow eyes, the pastor questioning how the young wolf's dedication to their faith was progressing. The young man of faith, living a life of complete chastity and dedication to spreading joy to others, had never known anything but; however, he felt he needed to get something off his chest: that strange dream the previous night where he had abided in everything he had abstained from. He had smoked the Devil's lettuce, drunk heavily, spoken his lord's name in vain, pleasured himself and lived a life of unruly sin; he felt utterly ashamed that his mind could even muster such an alternate world for himself.

"Pastor?" Max questioned as the older gentleman let out a rather loud chuckle.

"Nothing, my son; it is simply that your dedication is inspiring, that is all," the older wolf replied, placing a hand upon Max's shoulder, sending a chill through the young wolf's body. "You've made such excellent progress, you're the purest of my flock."

Max wagged his tail, he was always known to be a good boy when it came to following his faith. It was from that day onwards that he continued volunteering at the local soup kitchen, organising community events, and helping those in need. He preached the teachings of his faith to anyone who would listen, hoping to bring peace and happiness to those around him and never once felt the urge to smoke weed, drink, or get into fights. His thoughts were pure, his actions were kind, and his heart was full of love. Max was a missionary, plain and simple. He had dedicated his life to spreading the word of his lord and believed that by living a life of faith and purity, he could make the world a better place. He found joy in the simple things in life, like helping others and spending time with his newfound friends at the church.

And so, Max continued on his mission, spreading joy and happiness wherever he went. He was a beacon of hope, a shining example of what it meant to live a good and virtuous life. And in his heart, he knew that he was fulfilling his purpose, living the life he was meant to live.