Dearest Jaala,
I did notice you were a bit distressed over the recent loss of your
pack, so I did write this poem for you.
O' striding down the road, little Jaala did my eyes lay upon,
Standing there so unsuspecting and pretty as a fawn.
Your face though surprisingly is not what my eyes did hold,
Instead it was the pack upon your back, for it was filled with gold.
Looking deep into you eyes, your mind did I charm,
Looking only to liberate some gold, and deal you no harm.
When I snapped at you though, notice you did take of me,
And into the Northern Wilderness like lightning did you flee.
So I strode off back to the city with a tip of my hat,
Even a lowly thief knows when to leave that at that.
'Til I heard the mention of my head and some good ol' pike stickin
An' that's when I decided, that pack's just ripe fer the pickin'!
So you with amnesia and some suggestions upon you did I afflict,
And before you had realized it, your backpack I had nicked!
Don't worry poor Jaala, with me it is in good care,
I love it and pet it and it goes with me everywhere.
So next time you get a backpack make sure it is loyal you see,
Or else you never know, it might just run off with someone like me!

Good hunting!
- Kupo

Penned by my hand on the 6th of Lupar, in the year 379 AF.