*With
“The Adventures of Peter Gray" coming out this April, I've decided to conduct
an interview with its titular protagonist. In an empty area of 19^th
Century Central Park, Peter and I are seated across from each other with the
young wolf eagerly fidgeting in his seat*

Me: So, I hope you're as
excited for this as I am, Peter?

Peter: Ohoho, ya' bet I am,
Nathan! Ask away. I'm an open book!

Me: Literally?

Peter: *laughs* Good one.

Me: Tell me about yourself
then.

Peter: *gives a wide grin* My name's Peter
Gray, and I'm a street urchin living in New York City—specifically Manhattan,
beautiful city, it is.

Me: Were you born in New York
City, or did you make your way there?

Peter: *looks left and right
before leaning forward* Will what I say count as spoilers for your upcoming
book?

Me: *shakes head* Go ahead and
tell our dear audience.

Peter: Okay! *sits back up and
smiles* When I was born, my parents left me at an orphanage in New Jersey.
Can't remember much about where it was or what it was called, but I know I was
a little…shy growing up. My only friends were these two older Germans, a mouse
and fox named Hansel and Edward; they'd give me treats and smile each time they
walked by the windows to work, ya' know. I'd live there under the care of
Sister Susan, one of the nuns meaner than a grass snake, until one day when I
was eight, the sisters decided to place us on these 'orphan trains' heading
across the country.

Me: 'Orphan trains'?

Peter: *nods* So I ran off,
hitched a boat ride to New York, and here I am. It's been about five years
since.

Me: Is it hard being a street
urchin in such a large city like New York?

Peter: Not really, though
sometimes it can be hard to find proper food and warm lodgings. My biggest
problem though is with the food, 'cause some apparently don't like it when yer
digging through their trash.

Me: *laughs shortly* How old
are you then? When were you born?

Peter: I kid ya' not, but I
was born on July 4th, 1886—at least, that what I was told by the nuns. I coulda
been born a couple days before, but at least I have a date. Some of the other
orphans I'd met in Jersey and in New York don't even know the month they were
born.

Me: You must be lucky to have
been born on the same date as Independence Day?

Peter: *groans in slight
annoyance* Not really, Nate. Some're more concerned with the fireworks and
celebrating America's birthday rather than my own. *sighs* Still, I can't lie
and say I hate my birthday. Gives me an excuse to try and find some leftover
cake from bakeries around the city. *laughs softly*

Me: *goes through notes* Sorry
if I'll sound so blunt, but what are you exactly?

Peter: *raises an eyebrow* Uh,
what do ya' think, dummy? I'm a wolf.

Me: That can walk and talk?
Mind telling us why you can do walk
and talk?

Peter: *laughs and lightly
slaps his forehead* Oh yeah, sorry about that. *clears throat and curls his
wagging tail onto his lap* I'm a Furren, a wolf Furren actually.

Me: A 'Furren'? Tell me then,
are all Furren wolves or…?

Peter: Oh no, no, no. Believe
me, wolves aren't the only kinda Furren out there. There's cats, dogs, otters,
tigers, badgers, mice, otters, hybrids, my raccoon friend Lance. Heck, I even
met a fox/raccoon hybrid once who works as a newsie. Furren are basically
meat-eaters and onigores that—

Me: *laughs*

Peter: *perks an ear up* What?

Me: 'Omnivores', Peter. The
term you're looking for is 'omnivore'.

Peter: *laughs embarrassedly*
My bad. Anyway, with fur, paws, muzzles and often tails on 'em. Some Furren
have their advantages, like otters are talented at swimming, or cats got nine
lives. Me? I wouldn't change being a timber wolf for the world.

Me: Insect infestations in the
tenements are horrid. I'm curious; when it comes to you and fleas, how do you
keep them off you when you've got fur?

Peter: Are ya' saying I got
fleas?

Me: *holds hands up and laughs*
Hey, I didn't write this one.

Peter: *calms and exhales*
Believe me, it ain't easy. In Old New York, bugs and fleas are as common as an
uptight gentlewolf sneering down on us common folk. One minute, yer sleeping in
an empty barrel by the docks enjoying the night air, the next there's ticks
nipping under yer clothes and itching up a storm. I dunno what the rich gentlewolves
do, but me? I don't have fleas. Never had, never will!

Me: *smiles amusedly, then
glances back to the young wolf Furren*

Peter: It's true!

Me: Sure it is.

Peter:
*half-whines/half-growls* It is, Nate!

Me: *nods and continues* What
is your favorite part of New York?

Peter: *ponders* The different
people ya' meet, the tall buildings, the views ya' can find if yer into
climbing onto the roofs. There's always something strange or wonderful
happening in a city like this, not like the countryside. Oh! And the food!
*licks lips and swishes tail* Definitely the food!

Me: Speaking of which, what
would you say is your favorite meal.

Peter: That's easy: anything
edible from the trash. *laughs* Seriously though…if I had to pick my favorite
kind of meal, I'd hafta go with either cooked turkey, anything with meat in it
to be honest, or a tasty soup. Vegetables, meat, cheese or even corn, but no
olives! Definitely no olives!

Me: *raises an eyebrow* Who
puts olives in soup?

Peter: You tell me. *suddenly
perks ears and pants happily* Oh yeah, don't forget anything sweet!

Me: *laughs incredulously*
What, like cake? Donuts? Pastries? Bread?

Peter: *points at me* Exactly!
David Kinnick's bread is heavenly. Soft,
fulla enough sugar so it ain't too sweet, good wheat in it and so wonderful to
chew on when they're right outta the oven. Bagels are amazing too!

Me: *laughs again* Moving on
to the next question, what would you say you wanna be when you grow up?

Peter: *widens eyes and grows
silent*

Me: *tugs shirt-collar* Okay
then, what is your favorite hobby?

Peter: Pulling pranks and
playing with my friends. *smiles proudly*

Me: Who is your role model,
and why do you look up to them?

Peter: *pauses to think* Hmmm,
I'd hafta go with Hansel and Edward. Hansel, the mouse, is always worrying
about me whenever I'm off on my own and go some days without seeing him and his
foxy companion. I mean, I know he cares for me and doesn't wanna see me get
hurt, but I'm a wolf. I can handle whatever troubles come for me. Now with
Edward, he…doesn't talk that much.

Me: Is he mute?

Peter: Nah, he can speak, but
prefers not to talk unless it's German. The fox is sorta self-conscious about
his deep voice and shaky English. Whenever he does decide to talk, it's either to Hansel in his native language
or in short sentences. Don't get me wrong: he really cares about my well-being too. *sighs* Problem is, I don't
wanna be a burden on them too much; that's why I like to be out on my own on
the streets, and occasionally visit once in a while. I'm kinda like a son to
them.

Me: *softly smiles and looks
curiously at the wolf Furren* If you look up to them so much, do you aspire to
follow in their footsteps?

Peter: *shrugs* Maybe? I
dunno.

Me: *nods* Is there anybody
else you look up to?

Peter: *ponders* Mmmm, I'd go
with Dave Kinnick, that baker I mentioned earlier. He can be a meanie to me now
and then, threatening to skin me alive if I stole or dangling that awful tab he
has over me like a fishing hook, but I know he sees me as a second son too.

Me: What's the most exciting place
one of your many 'adventures' led you to?

Peter: *perks ears and wags
tail* Now that's a treasure question! Ever since I came to this wonderful city,
there's been so many things to do and places to go that…heh, even now I have so
many to choose from.

Me: *sits and leans forward in
interest* Mind giving an example?

Peter: *claps paws with
excitement* Okay then! So, I was ten or eleven and walking from Broadway when I
came to an expensive-looking stone building you may know as Carnegie Hall.
Passing by the place, I swear my ears could pick up the faintest of music I'd
never heard before, and lemme tell ya' I was curious! I sneaked around the
back, went inside to the backstage without anybody noticing, and followed the
wonderful music until I came to the ladder leading to the catwalk. A couple of
the stage workers above me, who just so happened to be cats, *laughs* saw me. I
would've run off if they weren't marveling at the music too. Heck, I even saw
another street urchin listening and relaxing on the catwalk with them. Without
saying a word, we laid down and listened to the music for an hour or so. *beams
and sighs* Ah, lemme tell ya', as much as I like ragtime, there's nothing more
soothing than what I heard in that hall. I even like to go and come back to
listen whenever I can.

Me: *smiles* Is there a
favorite piece of classical music you like, or does it vary?

Peter: Mmmm, anything that
sounds like an angel of Heaven, like Beethoven, Mozart, Chaikosky—

Me: Don't you mean
'Tchaikovsky'?

Peter: That too!

Me: Do you have a single piece
you like the most?

Peter: *thinks for a moment,
then slowly hums 'Ode to Joy' while wagging his tail*

Me: *grins and hums with him
for several seconds* Were you ever caught?

Peter: *finishes humming and
chuckles* Ha! The guards those rich gentlewolves hire to protect them from
'cretins' like me couldn't catch a note.

          Me: *laughs
with him*

          Peter: Want
me to give ya' another adventure?

Me: *shakes head* I think that's
alright.

Peter: Ya' sure? I can tell
ya' more.

Me: I'm sure, Peter. I
wouldn't wanna spoil more of the book.

Peter: *nods* Fair enough. *wags
tail and waits*

Me: Are you a baseball fan or
of any other sport? And if so, do you occasionally try to get to see a game one
way or another?

Peter: Hmm, I'd say yes, but
it's kinda hard to get a baseball or a bat when yer poor or living in a crowded
city. I mean, I've seen baseball between other cubs back at the orphanage, but
I rarely played. Now, if I had the opportunity to see someone play a game, I'd
either like to watch or play myself. I dunno, it never clicked with me being a
city boy. Now, if it's a game of kick-the-can, then I'm more enthusiastic.

Me: Now, tell me then about
humans in your world. How do they factor with Furrenkind?

Peter: *widens eyes, clearly
surprised* Humans? They're a species that stand out from Furren and animals out
in the wild. I dunno that much about human history or much about them save for
what James' family's told me, but lemme tell ya' they're not…popular among us
Furren. The meat-eaters, 'specially wolves, look at 'em like manure stuck
between their footpaws' toes. Did ya' know we even used to keep 'em as slaves
in the South?

Me: I should know, Peter. I
wrote it.

*we both give a short, morbid
laugh*

Peter: Point taken.

Me: Going back to the
question, why's that? Why do Furren have such hostility to another species?

Peter: *shrugs defeatedly* I
dunno. I mean, there's definitely speciesism among other Furren, but felines
and canines, 'specially wolves from what I'd seen, see humans as weaker. They're
a species that don't have no natural fur, no good hearing or sense of smell,
and so they look at 'em like hairless monkeys with pink pig skin. *holds a paw
up* Their words, not mine.

Me: *rearranges notes* Can I
ask you a serious question then, if that's alright?

Peter: *pauses, then firmly
nods*

Me: Why aren't you anti-human
then? I mean, I know you don't hate or even dislike humans, given one of your
best friends will be one in the book, but what makes your outlook so different?
*smiles* Don't worry, you can be honest.

Peter: *pauses for a moment*
Me? I don't like to think about it, given my upbringing, or lack of. When I was
a little cub, I'll admit I'd wonder what a human was if it was brought up.
Truth be told, I'd sometimes even think of humans the same way some of my
fellow Furren did. I'd never met another human until James came along, so I
didn't know what to make of 'em and judge 'em for something I didn't know.
*pauses and slowly forms a smile* Personally, I only treat people the same way
they treat me, no matter their species. If I can laugh with 'em, play with 'em,
talk and relate with 'em with being looked down on, it doesn't matter to me.

Me: *widens eyes* That's…very
profound, Peter.

Peter: *proudly swishes tail
against bench*

Me: *collects oneself*
Alrighty then, we have two more questions to go.

Peter: *broadly smiles with visible
fangs and bright lupine eyes* Surprise me!

Me: *clears throat* Living in
New England, do you remember the first time you ever saw snow?

Peter: I was either three or
four back in the New Jersey orphanage. I was starting to walk more and saw some
of the older cubs looking out the window. When I saw it snowing, I remember…heh,
thinking that God painted the world white overnight. I asked one of the kids
what it was, and they said it was snow. *grins and stares off into space* I
managed to convince Sister Susan to lemme out the next day and played out in
the snow with some of the cubs. *still smiles and wags tail* It's one of the
few fond memories I have of the place, ya' know?

Me: *nods and pats the young
wolf's shoulder* Last question then: what is your favorite activity to do on a
hot summer's day?

Peter: Playing with an open
fire hydrant and getting me some tasty ice cream from a vendor, if I can. New
York may be a cold place during the winter, but believe me: when it turns summertime,
it can be hotter than the Devil's bathtub.

Me: *smirks* I guess you can
say for you, it is a…doggie days of summer?

Peter: *silently shakes
muzzle*

Me: …get it? Annabelle keeps
calling you a 'doggie' and…you're a canine…

Peter: *keeps shaking muzzle*
That's bad comedy, even by your standards.

Me: *uncertainly laughs and
sighs* Still, it was wonderful talking to you, Peter.

Peter: *smirks and shakes my
hand* Ya' said it, Nate!

Me: Until next time?

Peter: Hopefully! I may bring
James with me then! *sits up and waves while running off*

Me: That's all, folks! *going
over my notes one more time, I smile and watch Peter join his friends by a nearby tree, and
leave to taste some New York bread for myself*