*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*