Wapun Meadow the needy eat man-mades, they wear phony clothes

Wolves asked questions because they could not live with not knowing everything. Ironic, considering one could never know everything. The priest was different in many ways. She held a lot of curiosity, but hers was not a curiosity for understanding. Hers was not to find all of the answers to everything in the world. Much of her fleeting mortal life and much of her soul felt as though it was about the complete opposite; it was about finding all the questions. All of the questions these mortals had, all of the mysteries they pursued. It was interesting. Their souls and psyches were interesting.

His question was among the more interesting she had had. Many others had seen her a spirit or ghost, and she had often said 'yes' to their inquiries, played along. But not often did they pose this question after already assuming her a mortal, after already assuming her a wolf. Not often did their questions come later.

It was a complex question, not one that bore a simple yes or no. Sometimes it seems that way, she said. It was probably the most straightforward answer she had given anyone in a long time.

His next question was very straightforward too, though the answer not so much. When she looked she saw many things, but most of what she saw was not very picturesque. The answer to that question is more -- For a moment she mulled over the word, for the words of the mortal world were not her forte, -- Difficult than should be. She did not sound content about the word difficult, but she could not grasp the word for complex at that time. They tangle, often. The colours, the shapes, the shades, the worlds, everything. It was too hard to put those sort of questions into words, no matter how simple their answers might seem to those who existed in the mortal world.