To the Noble Thunder - My horse
Disgraced in death, and sadly I could not come to care for you
For I lay in a distant place, to the hum of strange sounds and the
Misty land of forever between her and now before my eye
Grown weak, lips cracked, I thought of you - your loving eyes
And cheerful neigh - How we rode in the moonlight through the
The shadow trees and felt the heat of you and thunder of your hooves
There shall be no grave, marked with silver, etched marble to mark
Your simple love for me and I for you
I could not return - I know not how your body was taken -
For even it was left in a safe haven - But know for certain when I walk
Through the forest in the night I will still hear the sound of your
breath, and see
The clouds of mist as I pull up my cloak to the cold
Evil walks the land, proud, and an abomination - worships death and all
that is sacred
And Virtue and Goodness are forgotten as the power of evil multiplies
unchecked in Mhaldor.
If there be word that you have born a colt, and there has been, then I
will seek him out - I will raise him as if I were his own mother. And
someday in proud armor and array we shall ride together to vanquish
finally even if for a day the pestilence of evil and in that day a
thousand shall fall and Good and Valour shall be shown to those who
watch from high above, more than my own life, know from my heart
throughout my days I gave you what no man has ever known, my love.
Lythande
quit


Penned by my hand on the 12th of Sarapin, in the year 458 AF.