I approached the terrifying man-eater who crouched before the fire. “Peace be with you, grandfather,” I said, and then I asked him for a burning coal. I had to ask. I had no choice. My own fire had gone out.
“Do you want a big lump or a little lump?” he asked.
“Why, what difference would it make?”
“If you have a big lump you must give me a strip of your skin from your ear to your thumb, and if you have a little lump, you must give me a strip from your ear to your little finger.”
One sounded as bad as the other, so I said I would take the big lump. The man-eater cut a strip of skin off me, and I went home again.
Little did I know that he once he had a taste of my blood, he would follow me.
Then again, so did the raven.