"Books - David Eddings - Belgarath the Sorcerer" - читать интересную книгу автора (Eddings David)

Then on one golden afternoon in late summer I encountered a young
she-wolf who was feeling frolicsome. She had, as I recall, fine
haunches and a comely muzzle.

"Why so great a hurry, friend?" she said to me coyly in the way of
wolves. Even in my haste, I was startled to find that I could
understand her quite clearly. I slowed, and then I stopped.

"What a splendid tail you have," she complimented me, quickly following
up on her advantage, "and what excellent teeth."

"Thank you," I replied modestly.

"Your own tail is also quite fine, and your coat is truly magnificent."
I admired her openly.

"Do you really think so?" she said, preening herself. Then she nipped
playfully at my flank and dashed off a few yards, trying to get me to
chase her.

"I would gladly stay a while so that we might get to know each other
better," I told her, "but I have a most important errand."

"An errand?" she scoffed, with her tongue lolling out in amusement.

"Whoever heard of a wolf with any errand but his own desires?"

"I am not really a wolf," I explained.

"Really? How remarkable. You look like a wolf, and you talk like a
wolf, and you certainly smell like a wolf, but you say that you are not
a wolf. What are you, then?"

"I am a man." I said it rather deprecatingly. Wolves have strong
opinions about certain things, I discovered.

She sat, a look of amazement on her face. She had to accept what I
said as the truth, since wolves are incapable of lying.

"You have a tail,"

she pointed out, "and I have never seen a man with a tail before. You
have a fine coat. You have four feet. You have long, pointed teeth,
sharp ears, and a black nose, and yet you say you are a man."

"It is very complicated."

"It must be," she conceded.