We will be working with Sten, the monosyllabic wolf who oversees Carpentry. Few in the Pack like to work with him, because he has a reputation for being surly. I don’t mind him. He just really wants his wolves to pay attention the first time, so he doesn’t have to talk to them again and can listen to the things going on inside his head.
Getting to Carpentry involves picking our way through the little groupings of pups and juveniles and the adult wolves who teach them.
One group of juveniles squirms in a semicircle around the bench John uses. A chalkboard propped against it reads:
Thy body permanent,
The body lurking there within thy body,
The only purport of the form thou art, the real I myself,
An image, an eidolón.
The quote is one of John’s favorites from Leaves of Grass, and he teaches it every year, so that even when we are wearing clothes and standing upright, we will always remember the importance of that other self inside us.
We are a well-read Pack. Of course, we pay attention to the other wolves who teach us history and math and politics and law and science. But we really have to know our Shakespeare, because John is our Alpha and he bites.
Right now, he is talking to Leonora, the wolf who teaches us why humans do the things they do and how to blend into this world they now own. Her wardrobe is one long, painful teaching opportunity. Today it consists of a pale-beige bouclé skirt that binds tightly around her thighs all the way to her knees. The matching jacket has black piping and large gold buttons and bunches uncomfortably over her broad shoulders. She’s constantly pulling at the hem. When she glances at Ti, I grab his sleeve, trying to drag him into the safety of the woods, but it’s too late.
“Silll-ver.” Leonora terrifies me, and my spine tightens at the drawn-out first syllable and the barked second. She starts toward us with an uncomfortable staccato stride in a pair of stiff brown brogues. Draped awkwardly over her wrist is a matching handbag with a gnawed corner.
“Shifter, I am Leonora Jeansdottir, and I am the Great North’s HumBe instructor.”
“Human behaviors. And his name,” I growl, “is Tiberius.”
She flicks her eyes to me. “There is no growling in skin, Quicksilver. You know better.” She turns back to Tiberius, shaking her head. “You see what I have to deal with? As I was saying, since you are for all intents and purposes human, I thought—and John agreed—that you might be able to help me with today’s lesson.”
“I’m not sure what I could—”
“My classes are generally held inside the Meeting House”—charging on as she always does—“but I’ve found that for the First Shoes, it’s best to stay outside until they have mastered certain basics.”
Like chair sitting. When we come to the spot Leonora has staked out for her class, we find eight chairs and eight children, studiously ignoring each other. These First Shoes are in clothes, but they are awkward and lumpy: bulky sweatshirts under backward T-shirts, pockets bulging with puzzling garments, mostly underpants.
“Perhaps we could start by having the class scent you.”
“Absolutely not!” I snap. “He’s Mala’s son, not one of those stupid poisonous bushes Gran Ferenc always made us scent and mark.”
“And thanks to Ferenc’s efforts, many hazardous plants have succumbed to nitrogen burn.”
Leonora looks through her handbag and pulls out a stick of fake blood. She pats her lips with it, then sucks on them before loosening them with a pop. It smells like wax and makes her mouth look like she ate weasel. She told me once why humans do this, but I forgot.
“Good morning, children.”
“Good morning, Mr. Jeansdottir.”
“Ms. Jeansdottir. Remember, females are Ms.” She pulls again at her jacket. “We have a special guest today. I’m hoping most of you have scented him already?”
I cough loudly.
“In any case. This is a Shifter. Can anyone tell me what a Shifter is?”
“Someone who can phase, but doesn’t has to?”
“Have to, but yes, Toby. And this means that they are almost exactly like humans except they know what you are, whether you are wild or in skin, so”—Leonora suddenly starts talking very fast—“if you scent one Offland, you must lead them as far from the Pack as—”
I start coughing again, hacking and hacking until Toby looks at me in alarm and asks, “What’s wrong with her?”
“Turkey feather.” Pounding at my chest, I look meaningfully at Leonora.
“So, if you have any questions about life Offland that you’d like to ask the Shifter—”
“And his name is Tiberius,” I say again.
The class goes quiet. Catha has dug a hole, and several of the children gather around with their noses tight to the ground.
“Children?”
“There’s a mole,” Catha explains.
“You can get the mole later. Now is the time to ask questions of our guest. You could ask him about games he plays, school, jobs, food, anything. Just phrase it as a proper question.”
“What jobs do you have, Mr. Shif—”
A quick glower, and Harald corrects himself.
“What jobs do you have, Mr. Tiberius?”
“Before coming here, my job—it’s generally singular, by the way—was in human resources management,” Ti says.
Catha looks up from digging for moles, her nose and right cheek covered with dirt. “What’s that?”
Ti hesitates a moment, then says, “It’s basically figuring out how to get people to do what you want them to.”
There’s a long silence. Jillian scratches her ear. “Why don’t you just bite them?”
“Jillian has brought up an important point. Remember, even small humans are punished for biting without appropriate cause.” I remember Leonora drilling this into our heads every time I took Basics of Human Behavior, but I don’t think she ever clarified what “appropriate cause” was. Maybe that was covered in Intermediate Human Behaviors.
“It just occurs to me… Tiberius, perhaps you could help us review this week’s dialogue?”
He shrugs. “I’ll do my best.”
“Aaand…Xander. Xander, you will initiate communication with our guest, and he will respond. Xander?”
Xander scrabbles forward.
“What happened to your shoe?”
He lifts a shod foot up high for her to see.
“The other one?” she asks.
Xander looks shocked at the single filthy bare foot and shakes his head sadly. If the missing shoe hasn’t been chewed beyond recognition, someone will put it in the box on the stairs leading up to the juvenile wing. We go through a lot of footwear.
“Good morning, Mr. Tiberius,” pipes Xander’s childish voice. “How are you?”
“I’m fine, Xander. And you?” Tiberius replies with exaggerated courtesy.
“Better, because I had a tick right here?” He lifts his leg and points to a spot between his legs. “Next to my left ball? But when I turned yesterday? It fell off. It was like this big.” He holds his hands to indicate a monster tick the size of a hockey puck. “I pinned it on the wall next to my desk.” He hesitates, looking at Leonora, and adds a quick “Thank you for asking” before sitting back on the ground.
Leonora turns to the rest of the juveniles. “That was a good first try, but what would have made it better?”
Long silence.
“Anyone?”
Toby ventures a guess. “Xander said he turned, and we must never mention turning?”
“Yes, absolutely. We never mention turning or fur or muzzles or claws or hunting. The wild must always be protected. But there was something even bigger than that.”
“He talked about his balls? Humans don’t like genitals?”
“I wouldn’t say they don’t like genitals; they are just very squeamish. Fair point, but I’m looking for something else.”
“Parasites? They don’t like talking about parasites?”
“These are all good suggestions, but there is one critical point missing. Anyone?”
No one says anything. There’s a lot of scratching and broad jaw-popping yawns, and Catha lies flat, her nose to the ground, scenting for moles. Leonora gently reminds Harald that there is no changing until after lunch.
“Tiberius? Can you tell us what Xander did wrong?”
“He made the mistake of assuming that I actually wanted to know how he was.”
“Exactly! When humans ask how you are doing, it is meaningless. Tiberius, would you care to help me show the class how it’s done?”
“My pleasure,” he says and stands facing Leonora in front of the class. Leonora clears her throat.
“Good morning, Tiberius. How are you?”
“Fine, thanks. And you?”
“Just fine.”
“Now,” says Leonora, looking over her class. “See how simple it is?”
And Jillian bites Harald.