“That,” remarked a voice from the room’s corner, “is quite a magnificent pelt you have there. Arctic, I suppose?” Slender digits singled out the remarkable wolf in question resting above the fireplace, evoking a nod from the owner across himself. “I had thought as much,” the man continued. “And I must again congratulate you on such a trophy. Though if I may say, it’s a terrible pity the natural eyes never keep.”
     The speaker was a fine young gentleman known simply as Franz. He was leaning back in his lofty armchair, bright eyes like stars below his dark curly hair, and his young features impressed upon one a certain freshness to his character. A Frenchman named after some ancient German ancestor, the strange fellow was well liked in Anjou for his exotic storytelling. He produced a small silver watch and gazed at it for his own small eternity before he began speaking again, head still bowed.
     “Yes, it truly is a pity; glass beads are about as good for eyes as a small child playing soldier – neither have any inkling of what they are really trying to mimic, do they? All of us here are acquainted with that feeling, but since I have chanced to gaze unto a wolf’s eyes myself, I begin to wonder if we really understand at all. Certainly no man, not even I, can see it perfectly. A man’s eyes are said to be a window to his soul, but a wolf’s no, no no no! It should be very difficult to explain this queer experience that’s dogged my mind since that fateful trip to Rome; but I assure you good gentlemen, I have not been quite the same since.”
     No one disagreed on this so much as always believing Franz to be strange and mysterious as the norm; but on that same token, not a single person amongst the gathering motioned to stop his recollections.
     “Ah, on fait ce qu’on peut – I shall do my best to convey what I mean. I would take you to Rome, gentleman, a gay city upon which in youth we all ran amuck. ‘When in Rome’ must be very true if only to describe the various adventures to be had by the young and foolish. Ah, how so! Then I was barely two and twenty, and I beseech you all, what didn’t I own? That particular mindset is common in everyman at that age, but as I am not much older now I must still claim I bested the commoner in that regard. The festival being near put any reserve that might have hung on to utter rest; by my spending and reckless abandonment, a stranger would have thought me a count! I may recall a mademoiselle or two among the two and ten I had the pleasure to know who fell for that yarn on my behalf. This is the precise way Giuseppe (an Italian acquaintance of mine, dashing fellow) and I travelled about Rome, until one lovely morning when Anne of DeBray became wise to our game and booted us, bellowing something of the sort like ‘villains’ and ‘scoundrels’. Imagine that! Giuseppe and I still make light of it when we pass to this day.
     “With the realization that the rare woman can indeed resist a dashing Frenchman such as myself, Giuseppe and I ducked in to one of those queer animal shows. What do you call them? Yes yes, a zoo, now I recall. Beasts from all corners of the known world were most sufficient to cover our passage, owing mostly to the crowd goggling at their strange forms. What a sight that was! I will not deny my apparent inability to discern one or two groups gathered from the creatures they chanced to look upon, whose fascination with native French boars I own not to fathom. Giuseppe was kind enough to point out my folly by rightly noting that not everyone was so fortunate to inhabit France as I, and my boar was beyond them. He figured himself a little too clever for that remark, and in turn I rebuked his apparent lack of apathy for the Chamois, a type of goat native to the Apennines in his heavenly Italy.
     “Being stuck as we were until the general ruckus died down, it was decided that we should make the best of our time. Please recall gentlemen, that this particular episode was not long removed from the terrible tribulations of La bête du Gévaudan, who has attained infamy here in France. Even Giuseppe was no stranger to these dark times, so we decided to track down the wolf exhibit and see how we compared to these beasts of legend. To this day, I cannot forcefully erase from memory how my comrade made a bally ass out of himself by removing his top and flexing his lithe figure to the entire assembly, claiming to be able to wrestle no less than twenty wolves at a time. It took some impromptu drinking gestures on my part to drive away the gendarmes, forcing me to drag the ruffian off to our destination. Mon dieu! Italians and their blasted gusto.
     “Now, I must profess that during our search I began to feel an emotion very similar to pity for the occupants of this animal prison. Each and every inhabitant was blessed with a sort of apathy to the happenings around them, as though being penned up was the most natural thing in the world. Perhaps my amazement is unwarranted on the probability that these particular specimens have been in captivity since birth, and are strangers to the freedoms outside their personal clink. Still, it was most unsettling to see them milling about as gay as could be, being observed and picked apart by any persons who chanced to walk by without any say on their part. As if they would care if bestowed with the power to utter a single word! Perhaps the whole scene pricked me funny on the similarities of God’s ever watchful eyes peering into each of us, judging as we do these lower animals. Surely to Him we must not be much more ourselves!”
     Someone in the room made an audible scoff at this last confession, apparently finding it quite amusing. If he noticed it, Franz seemed to pay the offense no mind and continued his tale after a slight pause to catch a drink.
     “Before I bore you with my drab sentimentalism, it was amidst these thoughts of mine that Giuseppe and I came upon the wolf pen. I will not attempt to explain why I envisioned only one devil chained to something heavy, but the comparatively large area was filled with no less than four visible wolves, all asleep. They paid us no mind of course, being reserved to slumber and nothing else; as I’ve said before, we were not the only visitors there and they must have been used to such treatment. With this in mind my partner decided to act most unusual, hopping up and down like a mad Englishman crying profanities in his native tongue to awaken the furry lumps. As if to mock us, the grey one in the front flicked a pointed ear to mark his defiance to the Italian, and made no other move to signify his compliance to our wishes. Enraged and slightly humiliated, Giuseppe stomped off and left me hanging on the fence with our lupine friends. I do believe it was the creature’s natural beauty that left me incapable of following my wild company.
     “I cannot say how long I watched them sleep, but my patience was to eventually be rewarded by the very same fellow who insulted Giuseppe. Casually yawning as though you and I would upon arising from our beds, he lifted his head ever so slightly and looked my way. Even from the good distance I was, it was clear that this creature was not like the rest of them in that place. From this mere glance, I could ascertain that he was sizing me up to see if I was a threat even worth his time, or just some nuisance. It was not an evil glance, but a kind, inquisitive one, much like a child’s. Those were intelligent eyes; and for a second I forgot I was dealing with a wolf, instead regarding him as I would any respectable man. I was very firmly rooted to the spot I was standing, as though I had suddenly become some sort of tree or similar vegetation. This is the very initial feeling of those eyes; that of pure awe and respect, and I dared not move a single muscle. I am not sure if I was even able to breathe.
     “Apparently I was something of interest after all, and the fellow slowly and cautiously crept my way, never lifting his eyes from mine. If it was some sort of spell, it must have worked miraculously – even the bloodiest of wolf tales I had heard was not enough to leave me frightened. I waited very calmly as he came within two feet of myself and sat on his haunches, cocking his head ever so slightly. He kept gazing at me, almost maddeningly; those golden eyes of his were enough to pierce even the hardest of our plate mail, and he kept watching. Watching, watching. Did he want me to move, to say something, to reach out and become his next meal? None of those, none of those – he merely watched. Oh what he must have seen! Those eyes saw right through me – who I was, everything I have done, everything I will do, I swear he could see it all! Not a bit of my depths was left un-scoured to this majestic beast, who must have thought me a very foolish man indeed! Mai-je être pendu! Those were God’s very eyes!
     “Those pools of molten gold he possessed continued to stare, emanating a certain regality from them. The power of nature, of freedom had never left this creature, and such a love for life shone from his eyes; gentleman, I swear to you these words do not do them justice! Jewels could not match their beauty; a dragoon could not hope to acquire such strength. Nay, even a king could never possess such wisdom! Everything humanity has managed to toss away in our so-called superiority was not forgotten to this power in front of me. It is no wonder we fear these creatures so much! Everything I should have stood for as a man shone from these eyes, and here I was forced to bear my humiliation and lacking of these attributes as this wolf saw through the sham of my ‘civilized’ life! I fell to my hands and knees as though struck by a ball before him, may God Almighty (one more scoff Marcello, and I will fetch for the gloves and pistols immediately, these two men as my witness) forgive me for such an action! I bowed before this wolf, my superior. Grin all you want gentleman, for it is true!
     “What happened next, I swear on my grave is absolutely no farce. This blasted wolf took pity upon me! He took a step or two to lick my face once; then he stepped back again, and I could almost detect a grinning, slightly mischievous joy in his eyes. This was no accident! He understood all of my thoughts and feelings clearly! I cried out and leapt forward to touch this phantom that had possessed itself to haunt me, in order to thank it for opening my own eyes. I did not get but half a hair from my starting place when he jumped back away from me. His eyes shone defiantly with immense pride; he was a proud creature, I could tell, and it was the giant’s pride he had obtained. The pride of the behemoth, who is proud not because he is vain but because he is bigger was in those small moons atop the wolf’s snout. I was not deemed worthy to touch this creature, and rightfully so! He did not even do me the justice to watch me weep before him, exasperated as I was with emotion; he merely went back to his spot to lie and resume sleeping, so I should no longer squander his time. As preoccupied I was, I did not even notice an old companion who had returned from his previous encounter to see what had become of me.
     “The sum of my appearance and apparent madness seemed to have had quite the effect on Giuseppe. The poor soul’s expression was as though I had become a werewolf or some other nonsense; in retrospect, it must have been the most reasonable conclusion considering the circumstances. I fervently tried to explain just what I have recalled to you gentleman now, but he would have none of it. According to him and his sudden know-how of wolves, he made quite clear to me that he sooner expected the swine on his farm to take to the air then take to heart what I had just told him. More than a little irritated, I robbed a nearby suckling from a fat sow and hurled it at my boon companion with such force he would later recommend to me a tour in the games. It is not needed of me to mention that the two of us were promptly escorted off; some rubbish about disturbing the local wildlife.”