(...)
Finally, some peace and quiet! When I moved into the tower, somehow visitors started popping in every other day.
‘Oh, who are you, sir?’
‘Are you some kind of a wise man? Maybe you can help me with my boil?’
‘Please, can we stay the night in your tower? The storm is upon us!’
The incessant yapping and unwanted visits would simply never end.
But it’s over now. I hatched a plan, and it worked – and what a stroke of genius it was. It came to me when I was reading some writings by Marcellus Sidetes in which he mentions the lykanthrōpos – men who can change their form and become wolves. And I thought to myself: the people of the valley believe in so many strange things. For Christ’s sake, they say that there are some goatmen living in the mountains! So why not werewolves?
I was able to procure a wolf skin from some young hunter. Then I only had to put it on, run around the tower and howl on selected nights. And, of course, let a few unwanted visitors encounter the ‘monster’ living in what I'm sure will soon be known as the Wolf Tower!
And now no one comes by. I have the only thing I've ever wanted – solitude.