An old Wolf was chased out of the Pack to be on his own. He happened on some carrion which drew other Wolves who ate the carrion. Too bad.
Riches may gain you friends; false friends.
A Wolf now grown old, and no longer able to hunt for prey, was driven off and deserted by the rest of his herd; when almost famished to death he traversed the forest alone, and by good luck found the carcase of a fawn, which he had caught and killed just before he became so enfeebled; but the smell of this carrion soon drew other wolves about him, who amicably helped him to devour it, saying, “We are all of us good friends to each other.” When the old Wolf thus replied, “Now indeed you are my good friends, whilst I can give you something to gratify your appetites; but before, you chased me from your herds, nor would own me either as a relation, a friend, or even a companion.”
Riches it is which will gain you friends: even those who were your enemies will approach you under the specious garb of friendship, and be willing not only to share, but to add to your stock, when they are convinced there is no need of such help.