Sleepy Fox Hollow spaziergang

"Oh," said Dusty, surprise and interest mixing in his tone. He'd always assumed that The Germans were just another made-up thing his father liked to talk about, but whether they were real or not, he was delighted to hear someone else talk about them. Something in Mahler's expression made Dusty think the older wolf was pulling his leg, but he was too polite to say so.

Even so — the chance to learn another language was not something the boy was willing to pass up.

"I want to learn," he said at once, dark eyes glittering in wonder. How many languages were there in the world, anyway? "My fathers speak English — one common, and one Appalachian. And my mother taught us all Spanish. We sing songs in both languages, and in a language I don't speak. Nahuatl." All that to say: Dusty hoped Mahler would teach him the song before expecting him to hold a conversation in the possibly made-up language. But,

"What does it mean?" he wondered, scoring the earth with his paws and then rubbing his muzzle over the ground for good measure. He caught Mahler watching him then and straighten up to stand at attention.