Adelaide told Gerim that she had been expecting her husband the blacksmith when she had opened the door for him. For earlier that day he had gone to town for milk and bread and should be back anytime. She then went on to say that she was actually 'surprised' he wasn't home yet, and that Gerim needn't worry about imposing. The blacksmith was a kind a gentle soul who wouldn't mind sharing their roof with a weary traveller. 

Adelaide had always enjoyed chatting with the travellers who passed by. They always had the most exciting tails. She hoped that Gerim would also have a tail to thrill her. She doubted that he had had any real excitement in his life, he didn't seem the type, but maybe he knew someone that had. She was just about to ask when Gerim opened his mouth to speak. 

Gerim didn't tell her an adventure but instead spun a tale of heart-wrenching sorrow. A tale he may have edited a few details of. He spoke of his village, of how children ran naked in the streets and fought for the scraps given to the few hens the village had. How their parents couldn't feed them, couldn't clothe them, and that he was one of the lucky ones. He then told her how he hunted for his village, using a bow given to him by his father and that if not for him they would all surely starve.