Alpha was not certain he had accomplished what was expected of him. Humans could be difficult to read. Sometimes they hunted in packs, but sometimes they turned against one another, just like wolves and lions. There was something inside Alpha that set him apart from his ancestor, the wolf, and that was his need to rely on a being whom he did not so much serve as support, and from whom in return he received a kind of assurance, a shelter, a bowl always filled with fresh water, and an understanding that was not far off friendship. But what he did retain from his ancestors was the knowledge that he must not go into houses. So Alpha stayed outside all night. He slept in front of the house, near the door, quiet but with one ear pricked, as if he wanted to provide a sort of peace of mind. As if promising himself to watch over them like a faithful ally, without even knowing that the very next day they would finally decide to call him Bambi.