the white wolf

In his never-ending search for the truth that would satisfy his appetite, the wolf could pick up the scent of a distant prey or vague notion, and in a series of rapid associations, as he assessed and reassessed the flood of data stream­ing toward him, hone in on his quarry in no time flat. On other occasions, he might not catch up with his prey for some time, especially if the data was scant and led him off in the wrong direction. Or he might even lose the trail of his quarry, and have to start all over again, or at least let off hunting for the truth in this area for lack of anything remotely true for­aging around in the vicinity of his last hunch. Though he might have to wait awhile before anything more nourishing than a rodent of an idea came along, if he was patient, he would eventually find what I had been looking for.