Another week passed. After perfecting his knife-throwing skill, Oswald had to head back to Revel. An empty purse hanging on his vest, he ventured through the forest with his well-loaded wheelbarrow.
Now that every pillow of his house were filled with duck feathers, he had no use of it. Even Cluck, the white hen, had a warm and comfortable bed under her shelter.
The more meat he brought to the village, the cheaper Tina would sell it. A lot of villagers could buy meat, their stomach were thankful to Oswald, but some still held a grudge against him because of Daniela's speeches.
The boy's balance had changed along with his height. Now towering above all villagers, he was easily seen from afar. Yet there still existed people to brave danger recklessly.
Spitting on his back, many talked about his father's occupation or his probable faith to the wrong side.
