We don't ask what's in the bottom of the iron well, we just throw it teeth and wait for it to speak. I think the bravest person in the world must have been the one who dared to find out that it doesn't need human teeth to speak. As long a they're freshly removed it doesn't even care about the source.
I heard from a friend of a friend that if you give it enough teeth in one go you can have an actual conversation with it - it'll even let you ask a question. I've always wanted to ask it where all the teeth go, nothing has a big enough mouth for the hundreds of years worth of teeth we've been giving it.
When I told my parents I got a job at the local abattoir they didn't so much as flinch. They just told me they knew what I'd be bringing back and that if I had any care for them I'd make sure to hare generously. I'm sure they've heard the rumours too, probably have just a many questions as the rest of the town if not more.
I don't know how many teeth is enough to ask. The friend of a friend hasn't been seen in weeks and it's still too soon, too insensitive, to ask how many teeth he offered. My parents raised me to be patient, to hold back and make my offering near the end in case its mood takes a turn for the worse.
I will find out how much it wants for a question and when I know I'll find everything out.
The world will lose all of its secret to me and all the cows who gave so much, asked for so little.
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