The Wild Things

One might think that a boy who was out in the snow for so long would get cold, but Max was not. He was warm, partly because he had on many layers, and partly because boys who are part wolf and part wind do not get cold.

Maybe he hadn't thought the war through. It had seemed like simple fun when he had first pictured it, with a glorious beginning, a difficult but valor-filled middle, and a victorious end. He hadn't accounted for the fact that there might not be much of a resolution to the battle, and he hadn't imagined what it would feel like when the war just sort of ended, without anyone admitting defeat and congratulating him for his bravery.

He was warm, partly because he had on many layers, and partly because boys whoa re part wolf and part wind do not get cold.

This is why Max loved Mr. Beckmann: he was an equal. He seemed to have navigated his way through seven or so decades of adulthood without forgetting one moment of his childhood- what he loved and hated, feared and coveted.

Animals howl, he had been told, to declare their existence.

Max had to think about these new developments. He hadn't liked getting hit by a rock--his stomach still ached from then rock Judith had thrown--but then again, when his team had used rocks on Alexander, it had caused him to surrender. Now the Bad Guys only had three soldiers left, which would make victory for Max's team more likely. So now it made perfect sense. He was wrong to ban rocks, or even animals. The key was to use all the weapons at one's disposal, but to just make sure you won when you used them.

Why would you need a ship, Max? You're thinking of leaving already?" No, no," Max said. "This would be just for fun. Or emergencies." Carol's face had darkened and his eyes had gone small. His expression scattered Max's brain so much he started babbling: "It'll have a trampoline. And a big aquarium. An aquarium under the water, inside the ship, where we keep the fish and squids and stuff we like...

She looked at Max, grinning for a moment. "Wow, I can't even look at you." She closed her eyes tightly. "Why?" Max asked. Her eyes remained closed, a wide smile on her face. "I don't know. I guess you just seem good." "What do you mean?" he asked. She opened one eye, just a sliver. "Yeah, wow. It's almost unbearable.

It looked a lot like a dog. "What's that?" Max asked, expecting to hear about a mythical creature with a mythical name. Carol squinted and put his hand over his eyes to see better. "Oh that's a dog," he said. "I don't talk to that guy anymore.

Apparently some on on the Bad Guys' side had balled up this animal named Larry, and had thrown him at Max's team. Max couldn't decide whether he should band the use of animal projectiles or not. But before he could make a decision and as Larry began to scurry off dizzily, Carol grabbed him, balled him up again, and hurled him back. There was a shriek from the Bad Guys' camp. "Larry, you traitor!

Carol turned around quickly as if stifling an urge to lunge at Max. He turned back to Max, straining to appear genial. "Okay," he said, "but will you come over here and put your head in my mouth again?" Max continued to back up, "No, Carol. I don't want to right now.