“Wait,” the wolf-man requested. Sir
looked back over his shoulder. His leaving was negotiable. Anything, in fact,
was negotiable to an extent. “I will talk if you stay,” the wolf-man admitted.
In defeat? He averted his eyes onto the blanket covering his form.
“Speak,” Sir told him. He took up his
seat.
The wolf-man traced the pattern of the
blanket with his fingers until the pattern reached an end. His hands were
rough, his nails dirty. Had he noticed that before? The wolf-man swallowed and
tilted his head down a bit further.
“I think I’m controlled. We aren’t
one, we aren’t two. We’re both a part of one another and apart from one
another,” his mouth lifted just a little bit, “I don’t understand the wolf.”
Sir leant forward onto his stick. What
was it about the wolf and the man, that so intrigued? Destiny and the Fates. What else could it be after all? “The wolf
doesn’t understand you either,” he surmised. “Does it know speech? Can it talk
or communicate at all?”
The wolf-man…Luc’? Sir filed it away
for later. More important things about for now. The wolf-man made eye contact,
hesitantly, possibly even furtively. What was he afraid of? The wolf would
come? Sir narrowed his eyes. Maybe so.
“It hears but it doesn’t understand.
It is angered by speech.”
“Perhaps I may teach the wolf and give
it voice. One who communicates,” he lifted his fingers from the stick’s rounded
head, “may express his emotions and wants.” You
want to not be alone. “I can give you control over it. The wolf should not
rule you.”
“Do you have a name?”
Sir lifted his gaze and did not expect
to find the wolf-man looking at him. They made eye contact. It didn’t break.
Trust ought to travel in both directions at all times. The scales did not
always have to tip one way or the other. “Once. My name is Sir.”
“Sir? That is not a name,” the
wolf-man observed and Sir raised his lips into a smile.
“It is not. I do not remember my name.
It has been a long time since I used it.”
The
wolf-man bowed his head down.
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