You ask Karl if you can touch it, but he doesn't reply. He doesn't even attempt to smile. His gaze is fixed on the ears. He wants to understand how the shape and placement affect the reception of sound.

In order to extract this knowledge from the wolf head, he needs to treat it as an object. It is a thing, a piece of materia. It is not a container for a lingering soul. It doesn’t need a ritualistic treatment, nor does it demand respect. It is not an artifact valued for its history and the stories it might carry. The wolf head has no history, no past.

Karl puts it back on the shelf, in between two other things.