Lauren got up from where she had been quietly sitting in the corner. "I've got a poem, though it's not as serious as Hookbill's. She cleared her throat and began,
The Horse and Rider
In the grey dawn, a man on a horse galloped across the plain, and looked up. A light, a flame, was in the east. The sun was rising and they sped away, away to the sun and the red morn.
Away to the sun and the red morn!
The light of battle was in the horse’s eyes, and the man was girded with sword and shield. Their call was to battle, to battle in the east.
Away to the sun and the red morn!
The combat was getting close, and the sensing the conflict across the plain the horse sped onward, it’s mane streaming in the breeze.
Away to the sun and the red morn!
The manbecame one with the horse their actions as one, their movements as one. They rode together as the sun filled the sky, to the battle in which both must protect their honor.
Away to the sun and the red morn!
At last the field of combat, the sun was now high in the sky. The man gave a shout and the horse nieghed in unison, as they rode together to glory, to death.
Away to the sun and war!