Two Pots, one of brass and the other of clay, stood together on the hearthstone. A little later when he lifted his head, the flock was gone. This is my trick, he called to the Fox. That very same morning a hungry Wolf came by farther up the stream, hunting for something to eat. Very well, growled the North Wind, and at once sent a cold, howling blast against the Traveler. Now her weird hoo-hoo-hoo-oo-oo echoes through the quiet wood, and she begins her hunt for the bugs and beetles, frogs and mice she likes so well to eat. At last he felt satisfied and dragged himself to the opening to get out again. He was feeling very vigorous indeed, and pranced around loftily, holding his head high. And since then the Bat family hides in dark towers and deserted ruins, flying out only in the night.
Greatness has its penalties.