“Wolf," said Ran, enunciating it very carefully. "What an unusual name. Did your parents give it to you?""Does it matter?" said Wolf, tossing away his bone."I'm only making conversation.""I'd prefer silence," Wolf said, a growl in his tone.”

“And when the baker had plastered his feet, he ran to the miller. 'Miller,' he said, 'strew me some white meal over my paws.' But the miller refused, thinking the wolf must be meaning to harm someone. 'If you don't do it,' cried the wolf, 'I'll eat you up!' And the miller was afraid and did as he was told. And that just shows what men are.”

“Go on,” he said in a low tone that was a dare. “Keep on poking the hungry wolf, see how naked it gets you.”

“I note this hound of thine, Sir Knight," he said to Garion to ease them past an embarrassing moment, "a bitch, I perceive--""Steady," Garion said firmly to the she-wolf. "That is a very offensive term," she growled."He didn't invent it. It's not his fault.""...Canst thou perhaps, Sir Knight, identify her breed?""She is a wolf, my Lord," Garion told him."A wolf!" the baron exclaimed, leaping to his feet. "We must flee ere the fearsome beast fall upon us and devour us."It was a bit ostentatious, but sometimes thing like that impress people. Garion reached down and scratched the wolf's ears."...Ones advises that you stop that," the wolf told him, "unless you have a paw to spare.""You wouldn't!" he exclaimed, snatching his hand back."But you're not entirely sure, are you?" She bared her teeth almost in a grin.”

“My first question is- do you have a name?"A name? Yes.""Ah!" said the wolf. It wrote several extensive notes. "And what is that name?" "George.""I see," said the wolf. "And how long have you been George?""How long? As in, how long have I been alive?" "oh, were you here in some way before you were alive?" asked the wolf, interested."I...don't really know," said George. " I don't think so." "So you don't know if you were here? Or if you were here before your George-time? Is it possible for you to be here, bu not know it?""My what time? no, I mean, I was born, and then they just named me George." "So you are not George," said the wolf. George is just a name. A word. A propulsion of air modified by the flexing of throat parts." "Well, I am George, but...yes. Yes, and...no." "Is it possible that you became George at a later time, having been originally named that thing?" asked the wolf. " What if the naming had been different, would you still be George?" "I...yes?" "Really?" breathed the wolf in awe. "This is all so confusing." Yet he seemed very pleased with George's answers. " I don't know how you all do it. It seems so marvelously complex to simply...be.”

“Fox was here first, and his brother was the wolf. Fox said, people will live forever. If they die they will not die for long. Wolf said, no, people will die, people must die, all things that live must die, or they will spread and cover the world, and eat all the salmon and the caribou and the buffalo, eat all the squash and all the corn. Now one day Wolf died, and he said to the fox, quick, bring me back to life. And Fox said, No, the dead must stay dead. You convinced me. And he wept as he said this. But he said it, and it was final. Now Wolf rules the world of the dead and Fox lives always under the sun and the moon, and he still mourns his brother.”