“I wish I was that brave myself” Walter said.
“You don’t need to be brave,” Alden said. “Didn’t you ever hear about the valiant little tailor?”
“Who?” Walter was puzzled.
“The valiant little tailor,” Alden said. “My grandfather told me the story more than once. Sometimes all you need is wit and skill, bravery comes second. He killed two giants by throwing stones at them while they were sleeping. One awoke thinking it was the other and soon fought each other to death.”
“I’ve never heard of that story before,” Walter admitted.
“It’s just a story,” Alden shrugged a bit ashamed. “But it could be true. Imagine if they would let us in the hunt. It would be an adventure in itself, even if we didn’t kill the wolf.”
Walter didn’t know if he was brave enough or even skillful in hunting. Even if he could join the other men, he was certain that his mother would not let him.
Late that night, when Walter awaited for Jacobi, he heard a light knock on his window. He wondered if it was the wind, but wind does not knock. He quietly got out of bed, went to the window and cracked it open. It was Alden.
“Walter,” he whispered. “I thought you might be awake.”
“What are you doing here –” Walter whispered back. “It’s late.”
“I know, but they are gathered in the tavern for the hunt of the wolf!” Alden pointed in the direction of the Swan Inn. “Don’t you want to see who is going to join the hunt?”