A muzzle slide out from under his chair and Oded arched an eyebrow. It was a wolf. Or it appeared to be a wolf. He worked in a circus with several shape shifters, some of which were wolves and it was entirely possible the small creature was one of them. Its size spoke to either a female or a young one, or perhaps both. All the better, he thought as those eyes watched him for a moment before disappearing under the chair again. It wasn't leaving, so Oded took that as an invitation to continue. It was his home after all.
The creature moved again, this time, its head came out and Oded could clearly see the different colorations of its fur, but it was the intellect in it's gaze that had his interest. There was indeed more there than what it first appeared. Leaning back in his seat, Oded took a drink from his glass and set his guitar back onto his lap, strumming a few notes. "What should I play, little wolf?" he asked it, smiling.
"Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again. Because a vision softly creeping, left its seeds while I was sleeping, and the vision that was planted in my brain. Still remains... Within the sound of silence," he sang, strumming along to the tune. "In restless dreams I walked alone, narrow streets of cobblestone. ‘Neath the halo of a streetlamp, I turned my collar to the cold and damp, when my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light, that split the night, and touched the sound of silence. And in the naked light I saw, ten thousand people, maybe more, people talking without speaking, people hearing without listening, people writing songs that voices never share... No one dare, disturb the sound of silence."
Fools, said I, you do not know, silence like a cancer grows. Hear my words that I might teach you, take my arms that I might reach you, but my words... like silent raindrops fell and echoed in the wells... of silence. And the people bowed and prayed," Oded's voice rose a little, drawing out the a deeper tone for the crescendo of the song, still watching the little wolf. "To the neon god they made, and the sign flashed out its warning... In the words that it was forming, and the sign said The words of the prophets are written on the subway walls... And tenement halls and whispered in the sounds of silence". He strummed a few more notes before pulling the song to an end. He reached for his glass again, taking a larger drink. "The chair is considerably more comfortable than the concrete, little wolf. You aren't afraid, as you have remained, so join me."