Cultural Exchange

Murph decided that he liked having Torloo around. The boy was a font of secret knowledge, his for the asking. No matter how basic-seeming Murph's questions, Torloo gave thoughtful answers. And having easily picked up on Murph's enthusiasm for words, he often expanded on those answers, turning every conversation into coursework.

There was so much to learn.

It made Murph greedy and glad.

His former contentment fled, brushed aside by the eager wag of his tattling tail.

"Did you know that words are a wolf's third language?" Torloo asked.

And so Murph began to learn the intricacies of Amaranthine body language. And the crooning notes of wolfsong, which he doubted he'd ever untangle. And the knots that were also a language unto themselves. Patterns and codes and symbolism.

Each day, Murph walked his wolf to work.

Once there, Torloo would resume speaking form.

Everyone at the Perspective grew accustomed to his presence. Murph realized that they were all easing into integration. This would ultimately help Levity, who needed to keep up the pretense of humanity for a little longer. And … well, maybe one of these days, he'd tell his coworkers that Torloo wasn't a cultural liaison in a general sense. That the young wolf was helping him navigate something much more personal.

Each night, Murph fell asleep to Torloo's lilting recitation of the Seven-Score Moons, which was the wolvish calendar, but quite possibly another form of language, given the import of the moon's many names and their traditional meanings.

Torloo sussed out that Murph had been born under the Chasing Moon.

"So what …? I'm destined to chase my own tail?"

"Not at all. This is a reference to running after your heart's desire." With a sidelong look, Torloo added, "The Chasing Moon is auspicious for suitors."

Murph decided it was a good time to change the subject … and to bring up something that had been on his mind. He'd noticed how important balance was to the Amaranthine people, so he wanted to give something back to Torloo in gratitude for all he'd given. "Do you like plays? That is to say theater?" He gestured toward the posters and playbills on his walls. "We could go together. If you wanted."

Torloo's tail lifted. "I would like to share in the things you enjoy. But you were concerned before. Will people question the nature of our bond?"

Inspiration struck. "What if Levity came along? You have similar coloring. If anyone asked, we could say you're a relative of hers."

"This is a good plan. She is a good companion for you." He shyly added, "Your heart beats for her."

"It's mortifying, knowing you lot can tell."

Torloo said, "It is simpler to be honest. If you gave chase, I do not think Levity would run very far or very fast."

Murph sighed. "I know you mean well, but I can't exactly take dating advice from a child."

With the barest hint of a smile, Torloo said, "I am one hundred and forty-three years old, and I have eyes and ears and my wits about me. I understand both the chase and its end."

"You're how old?" And missing a few beats, he muttered, "How old does that make Levity?"

Torloo said, "I think she has become your confidence. Do you wish to be her comfort?"

Murph was curious about the wording. The clans had their own unique idioms, and he found them fascinating. "Comfort. Confidence. Does it have to be one or the other?"

"My father says that with partners, it is a fine thing to take turns." He explained further. "Mother speaks for the wolf clan, and she leads our pack. But that does not mean my father is mute or weak. They each have a role within the pack, and within the pack, they have each other."

"Taking turns," Murph echoed. The first image that came to mind was a Scrabble game. He and Levity each wracking their brains, trying to outdo each other, yet also playing off of each other's tiles, building together, word by word. "That wouldn't be so bad."

Torloo's tail swayed. "There are many wolvish traditions surrounding courtship."

"And I suppose you know them?"

"I do. That could be our next topic, since the establishment of dens is foundational to the strength of a pack."

Murph hung his head. Apparently, he really was going to be getting dating advice from a child. Worse, given what must be a considerable difference in years, he now worried if Levity might consider him a child.