The Fifth Elephant

spaniel, and probably someone’s leg, and an awful lot of mongrel. But he took it as an article of faith that there was in all dogs a tiny bit of wolf, and his was urgently sending messages that the wolf by the fire was one you didn’t even stare directly at.
    It wasn’t that the wolf was obviously vicious. He didn’t need to be. Even sitting still, he radiated the assurance of competent power. Gaspode was, if not the victor, then at least the survivor of many a street fight, and as such would not have gone up against this animal even if backed up by a couple of lions and a man with an ax.
    Instead, he sidled over to a female wolf who was watching the fire haughtily.
    “Yo, bitch,” he said.
    “ Vot vas that?”
    Gaspode reconsidered his strategy.
    “Hi, foxy…er…wolf lady,” he tried.
    A certain lowering of the temperature suggested that this one hadn’t worked either.
    “’Ullo, miss,” he said, hopefully.
    Her muzzle turned to point at him. Her eyes narrowed.
    “Vot har you?” Ice slithered off every syllable.
    “Gaspode’s the name,” barked Gaspode, with insane cheerfulness. “’M a dog . That’s a kind of wolf, sort of thing. So…what’s your name, then?”
    “Go avay.”
    “No offense meant. ’Ere, I heard tell wolves mate for life, right?”
    “Vell?”
    “Wish I could.”
    Gaspode froze as the she-wolf’s muzzle snapped an inch from his nose.
    “Vere I come from, ve eat things like you,” she said.
    “Fair enough, fair enough,” muttered Gaspode, backing away. “I don’t know, you try to be friendly and this is what you get…”
    Nearer the fire, the humans were getting complicated. Gaspode slunk back and lay down.
    “You could have told me,” Carrot was saying.
    “It would’ve taken too long. You always want to understand things. Anyway, it’s none of your business. This is family .”
    Carrot waved a hand toward the wolf.
    “He’s a relative?” he said.
    “No. He’s a…friend.”
    Gaspode’s ears waggled. He thought: Whoops…
    “He’s very big for a wolf,” said Carrot slowly, as if filing new information.
    “He’s a very big wolf,” said Angua, shrugging.
    “Another werewolf?”
    “No.”
    “Just a wolf?”
    “Yes,” said Angua sarcastically, “ just a wolf.”
    “And his name is…?”
    “He would not object to being called Gavin.”
    “Gavin?”
    “He once ate someone called Gavin.”
    “What, all of him?”
    “Of course not. Just enough to make certain that the man set no more wolf traps.” Angua smiled. “Gavin is…quite unusual.”
    Carrot looked at the wolf and smiled. He picked up a piece of wood and tossed it gently toward him. The wolf snapped it, doglike, out of the air.
    “I’m sure we will be friends,” he said.
    Angua sighed. “Wait.”
    Gaspode, the unheeded spectator, watched as Gavin, without taking his eyes off Carrot, very slowly bit the wood in two.
    “Carrot?” said Angua, sweetly. “Don’t do that again. Gavin isn’t even in the same clan as these wolves, and he took over the pack without anyone even whining. He’s not a dog. And he’s a killer, Carrot. Oh, don’t look like that. I don’t mean he pounces on wandering kids or eats up the odd grandmother. I mean that if he thinks a human ought to die, that human is dead. He will always, always fight. He’s very uncomplicated like that.”
    “He’s an old friend?” said Carrot.
    “Yes.”
    “A…friend.”
    “Yes.” Angua rolled her eyes and said, in a voice of singsong sarcasm, “I was out in the woods one day and I fell into some old pit trap under the snow and some wolves found me and would have killed me but Gavin turned up and faced them down. Don’t ask me why. People do things sometimes. So do wolves. End of story.”
    “Gaspode said wolves and werewolves didn’t get on,” said Carrot patiently.
    “He’s right. If Gavin wasn’t here they’d have torn me to pieces. I can look like a wolf, but I’m not a wolf. I’m a werewolf! I’m not a human, either. I’m a werewolf! Get it? You know some of the remarks people make? Well, wolves don’t make remarks. They go for the throat. Wolves have got a very good sense of smell. You can’t fool it. I can pass for human, but I can’t pass for wolf.”
    “I never thought of it like that…I mean, you would just think that wolves and werewolves—”
    “That’s how it is,” sighed Angua.
    “You said this was family,” said Carrot, as if working down a mental checklist.
    “I meant