Little mhun, I see you, little mhun scout.
Little mhun, I kill you, little mhun scout.

I am stronger, you are not; your kind exist as prey.
I make no apologies; the Lords leave it this way.
For I am hunting sewer mhun, this glorious day,
And little mhun, I've got several; I am glad to stay.

And how do I celebrate? I kill some more, til none are left.
And my hunting ground, of mhuns is bereft.

Little mhun, you'll come back, I know.
Little mhun, I'll kill more and show
My devotion to my Lords
by offering these in hordes and hordes.

Little mhun, dead in my hand, to my Lords do I offer.
Little mhun, dead by my hand, your gold is in my coffer.


Penned by my hand on the 19th of Miraman, in the year 483 AF.