When a wolf entered my coach, I was traveling through a dense spruce forest south of Munich. The farmland had fallen behind and we started ascending a road that wound around pre-Alps hills when the carriage came to a stop.
A wolf stepped in and sat across from me, wearing a bow tie, a pressed white shirt and a gray sports jacket. There was a blue hat on top of his furry head from which ears popped through. He held a steaming coffee mug and seemed to be debating whether to take a sip or begin a conversation with me. I didn’t want to be rude, so I refrained from asking what he was doing in my coach. Also, I don’t speak the local language and had doubts about whether the wolf spoke English, though I imagine he was well versed in German.
I opened a 500 ml Dunkel and the wolf looked from the bottle to me and raised his eyebrows.
“Would you like a beer, I have another in my bag?” I asked.
The wolf shook his head, “It’s too early for me.”
“I find that it calms my nerves during travel.”
What I left out was “especially when a wolf is seated across from me” for fear the wolf may get offended.
“Where are you traveling?” I asked.
“To an opening in an ash forest just south of Innsbruck. What about you?”
“I’m staying in Innsbruck for the night. From there, I’m heading south to Slovenia.”
“Innsbruck is a nice, quaint-ish city, when you’re coming from Munich. I especially like the Golden Roof where Emperor Maximillian used to watch festivals over three hundred and fifty years ago.”
“I’ve never visited the city before but would like to see that.”
“Perhaps, I could show you around before I head for the forest?”
“Perhaps…”
“They have mulled wine that I go wild over at the Christmas market by Inn River. I don’t drink much, but around the holidays, I give myself a little extra leeway.”
“As you see, I have no such qualms,” I said, gesturing to the Dunkel in my hand.
The coach became silent as we climbed steeper mountain terrain. Before long, we could see villages far below.
The wolf licked his lips, muttering that it was well past lunch, and looked in the suitcase at his side. He retrieved a napkin and plate, placed them at his side, and then pulled out a small goat carcass from the suitcase. The wolf immediately began sinking his teeth into the goat’s abdomen, tearing away at the pink insides with its fangs.
I called for the coachman to stop, grabbed my luggage and leapt out onto the road.
The wolf called out after me, “What did you expect? I’m a wolf, after all!”