The wolf had been trained by the man, or had trained himself unassisted, to divers wolfish arts, which swelled the receipts. "Above all things, do not degenerate into a man," his friend would say to him. Never did the wolf bite: the man did now and then. At least, to bite was the intent of Ursus. He was a misanthrope, and to italicize his misanthropy he had made himself a juggler. To live, also; for the stomach has to be consulted.
The wolf, whether trained by a man or having learned independently, had developed various skills that enriched their experience. A significant piece of advice emphasized never losing one's natural essence and becoming overly human. The wolf maintained its nature by refraining from biting, while the man sometimes acted out of frustration.
Ursus, embodying a deep misanthropy, expressed his disdain for humanity through his role as a juggler. This performance not only served as an artistic outlet but was also a necessary means of survival, highlighting the practical need to earn a living while grappling with his outlook on society.
