The Legend of Archibal

The only closeness to the venture Walter had is when Alden came to get him to go the tavern together and listen to their stories and fill their lungs with the merriment the shanty men paraded about. Walter had gotten so caught up that he anticipated Jacobi’s visits less. As Usual, he was hastily leaving him the buttermilk and pastries when unexpectedly, Jacobi popped out from the rat hole. “Hallo, there young Walter,” he cheerily greeted him.

“H-hello, Jacobi.”

“You seem in a hurry?” Jacobi said jumping on the table.

Walter was in a hurry to get back to his room before Alden came to get him. “Well, sort of.”

“What is the rush, my boy?” Normally, it was Jacobi running in and out of the kitchen, always in a hurry to go somewhere but it was Walter who was in a hurry.

“Well, there is this hunt that is going on around town,” Walter told him eagerly. “All the man have been gathering at the tavern and -”

“Hunt?” Jacobi was surprised. “A hunt for what?”

“The wolf,” Walter said. “The one that has been eating all the shepherds’ sheep.”

“The—What? Wolves don’t venture out from the Black Forest,” Jacobi said. “What does this wolf look like? How long has this been happening?”

“Since a couple of weeks ago, I think,” Walter stammered. “Nobody knows, but some have said it is as big as a lion. It never comes into clear view.”

“Oh dear,” Jacobi became worried. “I was fearing this.”