“If you take care of me, I will live with you, and serve you—and I am able to.”
“Yes, I will take care of you.”
“I was powerful, respected, and venerated in the woods. I had a beautiful voice, and sang when the wind swayed my branches. Now I am so different—but I can be useful to you and help you. I know many things. I can see a long distance, and I know the world, and can give you advice and information, and tell you old stories when you are sad. I promise to be affectionate and faithful. Now I will try to walk.”
With a stiff step and unsteadily, as if he were walking on stilts, Fiam took a trip around the room and then returned and climbed up on my knee.
“Is it all right?” I asked.
“Tighten up the joint of the left leg. The knot is loose so the leg is trembly.”
With the help of my teeth I tightened the knot, and placed Fiam on the floor. He tried again, and this time stepped more quickly and steadily.
“Thank you,” he said to me, as he came back. “Now, listen to me. You must carry me always with you; you must never leave me; you must never give me to any one else.”