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At our next stop on the zoo tour, we pass a sign that reads WOLF WOODS, and she puts her hands on the mesh enclosure. "There are four wolves left. There were many more at one time, but one of the wolves was a psychopath."I laugh, figuring she is making a joke. She doesn't laugh back. I catch sight of one of the wolves. He's white with steely eyes, and he's staring at me. "A psychopath?""Well, what would you call it? Wolves were showing up dead. Disemboweled. They couldn't figure out who had done it, so they brought in a wolf detective. She got right to solving the case. We only lost three more after that, and once she found the killer, they hung him."I look out at the area. A wolf detective! I'd never heard of that. And then I look back at her. "Wait. They hung a wolf?" She sucks her lips in, rolls her eyes up, and stares at the sky. "Too much?""You made that all up, didn't you?" I ask.She tilts her head. "I may have."We have stopped walking. "Cool," I say. "Is it?"I think: yeah. It's the kind of thing that the improv comedy group at my high school does. I joined this year, because of a girl, of course, and that didn't work out, of course. But I really like improv. "It's totally cool," I say.