He sat by the forest lake … and self-consciously plucked softly at his lute, while she, paws clasped behind her head, lay comfortably on her back with her eyes closed, visibly enjoying the early autumn sunbeams.
He looked at her as she lay there, stretched out.
After a while, she spoke softly: “I can hear your thoughts all the way over here… what’s wrong?”
He set his lute aside and asked cautiously, “Is it… I mean, am I thinking that loudly?” She opened her eyes and turned her head toward him: “You know… Maybe you could lie down here next to me in the cool moss for a moment? And then think of three questions you’d like to ask. No more, no less.”
Hereby, I claim the right to ask for a German version…
Worthy traveler, you do not have this right, but I follow your gentle request …
He drew a breath, about to speak, but she beat him to it: “But before you go asking those three questions thoughtlessly—just because they seem important right now—how about you close your eyes for a moment first and simply enjoy the wind in your fur, the cool moss, and the sun on your face? Three questions aren’t many… or perhaps they are more than one thinks, if asked wisely.”
Then she closed her eyes again and breathed in the forest air deeply. And so, they lay side by side. After a while, Fian said quietly, “I don’t understand what happened back at the tavern.” She opened one eye and turned her head toward him. “That wasn’t a question,” she remarked. “I know…” he replied, “but a question doesn’t seem necessary here. Rather…” She sat up and looked at him expectantly with her cool eyes. “…rather?”
Fian fell silent for a moment. “I think, rather, that I missed something.”
The wolf tilted her head slightly: “Is that so…?”
“Everyone else saw something.” Her ears twitched curiously: “Yes.”
Fian tried to find the words but then simply said, “You too.”
She nodded. “Yes.”
And then she looked out at the lake. “And apparently, I didn’t.”
A faint smile flitted across her face. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
Fian shot her a disapproving look. “Was that supposed to be encouraging?”
“No.” She stretched luxuriously. “That was just an observation. And a first question.”
He thought about it for a moment, then said, slightly offended: “You’re awful at cheering people up.” She lay back down and closed her eyes. “And yet, here you are,” she said, stretching again. “Why is that, actually?” Fian pondered this for a moment. “I am, and no – I don’t know why.”
She smiled faintly: “Well… So, what’s your second question?”
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “That last one wasn’t fair, because it wasn’t a real question.” “I know; that’s why there wasn’t a real answer. But a question is a question. And if you’re going to be here asking things, you ought to pay a bit closer attention to what you’re actually doing. So, if you were to ask me that, *this* would be my answer.” He drew breath to ask what that was supposed to mean, then swallowed the question back down. “See? It’s that easy… Simply *not* asking,” she remarked, eyes still closed. “… So, what is your second question now?”
He stretched slowly: “I need to think about that.”
She sat up now and looked at him curiously: “Think about what? You’ve surely got a thousand questions wandering around inside that thick bard skull you carry on your shoulders. Just pick one and ask it.” He looked at her: “That’s true, but I only have two questions left at the moment. So they have to be really good ones. And I don’t know if I’m allowed to ask them.” “You know…” she tilted her head slightly, “if you’re already wondering whether you’re allowed to ask a question, then it’s probably the right one. Interesting questions are rarely comfortable.” He thought for a moment, then said, “What is all this actually supposed to become when it’s finished?” She pondered the question, and then simply replied, “That’s a good question.”
He looked at her curiously, initially intending to ask a question, but then said quietly, “And I assume I won’t get an answer right now.” Her ears twitched briefly in a way that suggested concern. “No. But the question will be answered. When the time is right. And now you have one question left.” “I do have one, but it’s very short and uncomfortable and can be answered with a ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ Or in a great many lines and verses. And it would explain a great deal without saying or doing a thing.” Now she looked at him curiously: “Oh… really? So, the thoughtful bard has a short question that demands my full attention?” He sat up and looked at her with wide eyes. “Do you actually like me?”
The wolf looked at him for a long time. “That’s your last question?”
Fian nodded. “Yes. It’s important to me. I mean, really important.”
She turned her gaze briefly toward the lake. “You really waste an extraordinary number of options in an extraordinarily strange way.” Fian flattened his ears. “That wasn’t an answer.” She remained silent. “No, it wasn’t.” The wind swept across the lake. Finally, she sighed softly. “How is it that you’re suddenly so eager to learn?” Fian blinked in surprise. “I don’t understand what you mean, even though it… I didn’t mean to… OW!” She punched him painfully on the shoulder and rolled her eyes in annoyance: “Stop that! … A question is a question. And words can never be taken back.” Then she looked at him inquiringly: “Do you really want an answer to that?” He looked back thoughtfully: “I need to think about that for a moment.” They lay back down in the moss, and she closed her eyes. “Do that, then, and let me know when you’ve decided.”
Fian lay back in the grass as well and replied after a while: “Perhaps the question is a good one, but phrased incorrectly.” The queen of the north opened one eye: “Oh? Did we ‘overlook’ something?” A faint smile played across her face. “What would you have preferred to ask?” He gazed up through the canopy at the clouds: “Well, actually, the question should have been why I simply like you, despite everything.” Now she stood up and looked at him intently. Very intently. “You surprise me. But I could only answer the question you actually asked – if I were to answer it at all. And whether I give an answer hasn’t been decided.”
He breathed in the forest air deeply. “Let’s make a silent agreement here:
When the time comes, you will answer the question you were asked, and I will answer why things are the way they are. And until then, I will wear this collar.” She thoughtfully turned her ears back and said after a moment, “Again, a surprise to me, you’ve decided…” “Yes,” he replied quietly, closing his eyes again. “As you said, maybe I really do need some guidance.” She regarded him thoughtfully. “You do realize, though, that you won’t like it once I reach for the ring on your collar.” He fell silent for a moment, turning the thought over in his mind, and answered slowly: “No. I probably won’t like it. But I trust that there will be a reason for it—even if I don’t understand it.”
“Let’s call it a day and enjoy the sunset…” she suggested. “…we’ve truly talked and learned enough for today.”
And so, he lay back in the cool moss and gazed up at the clouds in the sky.
