One white-moon evening, in the village of St Cyr de Gâst, the dogs began to howl like wolves. The grocer’s stuffed rooster started crowing as if at dawn, causing a commotion that roused the villagers. Some, anxious, others more daring, opened their shutters. In the middle of the street walked a being half-cat, half-human, with fur so white it was visible as in broad daylight. A galipote, surely! It could be no other creature. Wandering and teasing the dogs barking at its passage, the galipote lingered before a villager couple’s house. It knocked on the barred door and said:
• Woman, did you call me?

Inside, the couple cowered. The man said to his wife:
• Are you mad? Did you summon the galipote?
• Oh, no! I swear to you. How can you think such a thing? With those creatures, one never knows what to expect.

The galipote knocked again on the door:
• Woman, it is you I come to see. The stream, the wind, the trees, and the mist told me you needed me. Answer, it is in your interest.

The frightened woman didn’t know whether to respond or remain silent. But with this galipote at her door, it was certain it knew she was there. So, with a tremble in her voice, the woman said:
• I am here, but I did not call you.

The galipote replied:
• Whether you know it or not, you have summoned me. Your body suffers, and your soul as well. Open this door. I am your relief.

The man said to his wife:
• Stay here. Surely, you won’t open it. God knows what danger awaits us.

Hearing the murmur, the galipote said:
• Silence, man. I am not addressing you.

And suddenly, the man lost his voice. He tried to speak, but no sound came from his mouth. The woman was terrified. What would happen if she didn’t heed the creature’s command? Would her husband remain mute? Though frightened, she went to unbar the door and opened it.
• Will you let me in? Asked the galipote. I must be invited.
• Enter, said the woman reflexively.

The galipote crossed the threshold and sat by the hearth, where only a few warm embers remained. A slight gesture of its paw, and the fire began to crackle.
• I like to warm myself, said the galipote in its male, meowing voice, gazing at the fire.

The man wanted to rise and chase away this intruder. With a feline gesture, the galipote extended its paw toward him, and the man was petrified, able only to move his eyes. The woman trembled all over.
• Fear not, woman, come closer. I mean you no harm. Come, and sit by me.

Hesitant, the woman barely approached.
• Come here, I tell you. We have matters to discuss.

The woman felt her body lead her near the creature and sit beside it.
• It is unpleasant not to be master of oneself, said the galipote. But it is easier for you this way.

Not knowing how to address this creature without causing offense, the woman nevertheless asked:
• Mistress galipote (though evidently male, the creature being naked from head to toe), why have you come to my home? I did not summon you.

The galipote replied:
• Did you not go to the river yesterday to soothe your pains in the icy water?
• Yes, replied the woman.
• Did you not pray to be relieved?
• I cannot deny it, but…

The galipote interrupted her.
• The water was moved by your pain, which it could not soothe. It spoke to the stepping stones of the pond. To the trees that came to drink, they spoke. The trees, in turn, were troubled. Through their foliage, they told the wind that the woman who loved to honour them suffered a great ailment they could not heal. Then the mist, accompanied by a few leaves, rose to plead for you at my dwelling and invited itself to my home, I who love warmth so much. Do you know that my gift is to heal and to watch over the care and balance of nature, or do you not?
• N-no, said the hesitant woman.
• That is indeed why I am here! Now, turn so I may see your back.

The woman complied of her own will this time. The feline being began to purr. The woman felt a paw rest on the top of her neck, then another descended along her spine, and finally, followed each of her bones. Throughout these manipulations, the soothing purr of the galipote was heard. When it finished its work, it said to the woman:
• Now you may turn and look at me.

The hypnotic eyes, with emerald green irises of the galipote, seemed illuminated.
• Do you still feel any pain now?

The woman’s face was transformed.
• I… I feel no more pain, she said, both astonished and relieved from the suffering that had plagued her.
• Then, for you, the birds will sing tomorrow, said the galipote. I found your bones very ill. Had I not come, I fear your ailment would have soon taken you to the earth. I have now completed my work. Stroke the top of my head, I pray you. The woman did so willingly. The galipote purred with a few head nudges as payment for its action.

The galipote stretched and rose without another word. Crossing the threshold, with a slight lift of its paw; or hand, it was hard to say; it freed the man from his paralysis and restored his voice. The galipote closed the door behind it without even touching it. But upon leaving the house, resuming its path, a hunter, enraged at what he considered an abomination, shot at the galipote, hitting its shoulder with lead. The hunter prepared to fire a second shot when the galipote turned and looked at him, eyes blazing with anger. The hunter instantly froze. With a yowling cry and hissing, the galipote addressed him thus:
• So it is you, the evildoer, who comes to harm my woods and kill my kin!

The galipote’s uninjured paw pointed a claw at the hunter, and while hissing, it cast upon him:
• Receive the ailment I have just removed as a reward for your misdeeds.

The hunter began to writhe in pain, while the galipote fled into the night and vanished.

The grocer’s stuffed rooster crowed one last time before the sun rose.

The next day, and in the days that followed, the miller of the watermill in the forest pond was nowhere to be seen in the village. The mill remained closed.

But nearly a month later, the hunter, now twisted in all his bones, expired from an ailment unknown to any. As a mystery, it was then that the miller returned to the village to deliver his flour to the baker, not without fetching his grain from neighbouring farms, taking his time as usual. And from the granaries, at his approach, in the village of St Cyr de Gâst, the dogs began to howl like wolves. The grocer’s stuffed rooster started crowing as if at dawn, causing a commotion that roused the villagers. Some, anxious, others more daring, opened their shutters. In the middle of the street walked a being half-cat, half-human, with fur so white it was visible as in broad daylight. A galipote, surely! It could be no other creature. Wandering and teasing the dogs barking at its passage, the galipote lingered before a villager couple’s house. It knocked on the barred door and said:
• Woman, did you call me?

Inside, the couple cowered. The man said to his wife:
• Are you mad? Did you summon the galipote?
• Oh, no! I swear to you. How can you think such a thing? With those creatures, one never knows what to expect.

The galipote knocked again on the door:
• Woman, it is you I come to see. The stream, the wind, the trees, and the mist told me you needed me. Answer, it is in your interest.

The frightened woman didn’t know whether to respond or remain silent. But with this galipote at her door, it was certain it knew she was there. So, with a tremble in her voice, the woman said:
• I am here, but I did not call you.

The galipote replied:
• Whether you know it or not, you have summoned me. Your body suffers, and your soul as well. Open this door. I am your relief.

The man said to his wife:
• Stay here. Surely, you won’t open it. God knows what danger awaits us.

Hearing the murmur, the galipote said:
• Silence, man. I am not addressing you.

And suddenly, the man lost his voice. He tried to speak, but no sound came from his mouth. The woman was terrified. What would happen if she didn’t heed the creature’s command? Would her husband remain mute? Though frightened, she went to unbar the door and opened it.
• Will you let me in? Asked the galipote. I must be invited.
• Enter, said the woman reflexively.

The galipote crossed the threshold and sat by the hearth, where only a few warm embers remained. A slight gesture of its paw, and the fire began to crackle.
• I like to warm myself, said the galipote in its male, meowing voice, gazing at the fire.

The man wanted to rise and chase away this intruder. With a feline gesture, the galipote extended its paw toward him, and the man was petrified, able only to move his eyes. The woman trembled all over.
• Fear not, woman, come closer. I mean you no harm. Come, and sit by me.

Hesitant, the woman barely approached.
• Come here, I tell you. We have matters to discuss.

The woman felt her body lead her near the creature and sit beside it.
• It is unpleasant not to be master of oneself, said the galipote. But it is easier for you this way.

Not knowing how to address this creature without causing offense, the woman nevertheless asked:
• Mistress galipote (though evidently male, the creature being naked from head to toe), why have you come to my home? I did not summon you.

The galipote replied:
• Did you not go to the river yesterday to soothe your pains in the icy water?
• Yes, replied the woman.
• Did you not pray to be relieved?
• I cannot deny it, but…

The galipote interrupted her.
• The water was moved by your pain, which it could not soothe. It spoke to the stepping stones of the pond. To the trees that came to drink, they spoke. The trees, in turn, were troubled. Through their foliage, they told the wind that the woman who loved to honour them suffered a great ailment they could not heal. Then the mist, accompanied by a few leaves, rose to plead for you at my dwelling and invited itself to my home, I who love warmth so much. Do you know that my gift is to heal and to watch over the care and balance of nature, or do you not?
• N-no, said the hesitant woman.
• That is indeed why I am here! Now, turn so I may see your back.

The woman complied of her own will this time. The feline being began to purr. The woman felt a paw rest on the top of her neck, then another descended along her spine, and finally, followed each of her bones. Throughout these manipulations, the soothing purr of the galipote was heard. When it finished its work, it said to the woman:
• Now you may turn and look at me.

The hypnotic eyes, with emerald green irises of the galipote, seemed illuminated.
• Do you still feel any pain now?

The woman’s face was transformed.
• I… I feel no more pain, she said, both astonished and relieved from the suffering that had plagued her.
• Then, for you, the birds will sing tomorrow, said the galipote. I found your bones very ill. Had I not come, I fear your ailment would have soon taken you to the earth. I have now completed my work. Stroke the top of my head, I pray you. The woman did so willingly. The galipote purred with a few head nudges as payment for its action.

The galipote stretched and rose without another word. Crossing the threshold, with a slight lift of its paw; or hand, it was hard to say; it freed the man from his paralysis and restored his voice. The galipote closed the door behind it without even touching it. But upon leaving the house, resuming its path, a hunter, enraged at what he considered an abomination, shot at the galipote, hitting its shoulder with lead. The hunter prepared to fire a second shot when the galipote turned and looked at him, eyes blazing with anger. The hunter instantly froze. With a yowling cry and hissing, the galipote addressed him thus:
• So it is you, the evildoer, who comes to harm my woods and kill my kin!

The galipote’s uninjured paw pointed a claw at the hunter, and while hissing, it cast upon him:
• Receive the ailment I have just removed as a reward for your misdeeds.

The hunter began to writhe in pain, while the galipote fled into the night and vanished.

The grocer’s stuffed rooster crowed one last time before the sun rose.

The next day, and in the days that followed, the miller of the watermill in the forest pond was nowhere to be seen in the village. The mill remained closed.

But nearly a month later, the hunter, now twisted in all his bones, expired from an ailment unknown to any. As a mystery, it was then that the miller returned to the village to deliver his flour to the baker, not without fetching his grain from neighbouring farms, taking his time as usual. And from the granaries, at his approach.