““Merlin stepped forward until he was standing not more than an arm's length from Megan. He gestured toward the wolf. "Please, do not be afraid. He is harmless as any hunting dog. Only those who would threaten me need fear of him." The animal got up and loped to its master's side, where it nuzzled his hand. Megan watched in wonder. "Can I... can I touch him?" she asked. When Merlin nodded she moved cautiously toward the animal, then reached out a trembling hand. The wolf sniffed her palm, then sneezed as the garlic burned his nostrils. Megan laughed, and looked up to see Merlin laughing silently, too, his face animated and softened by his smile. She reached forward once more and touched the wolf's dense coat. "Oh," she said, "it is softer than a lamb's wool! Who would have believed such a thing?" The wolf seemed to enjoy the attention and was happy to let her make a fuss of him. Megan found herself so fascinated by the creature she all but forgot Merlin until he spoke again. "It is often true that being close to the object of our fears is not as terrifying as we had supposed it to be. It is the threat of terror that controls a man more than the terror itself.””
