Thursday, September 27, 2018
Prince and horse lived in the monastery seven years. The garden provided nourishment and the beehives sweetness. Each night the two friends lay down in a grassy pasture to sleep, but the werewolves always bedeviled them. In darkness they tossed and turned in restless agitation while the lycanthropes raged outside the cloister walls. Just before the first rays of dawn announced the end of night, the werewolf mother sang her lullaby to the were-pup and the demons were silenced. Prince and horse then awoke and followed Winibald and Willibald as they attended to their monastic duties. And so the time slipped by.
One morning the prince was deep asleep, his horse was snoring loudly and the sun was rising rapidly. He felt a boot nudging his ribs. Then it tapped and finally, it was planted firmly on his breast. The mounting pressure caused him to wriggle and squirm. Pushing it away, he jumped up.
Willibald and Winibald stood before them. “The old things have passed away; “ Willibald stated flatly, “And behold,” Winnibald continued “new things have come.”