An aqua-haired boy,

chasing a fair elven girl,

down a cobbled street.

Rich velvet silence,

leather tomes tell their stories,

if you listen close.

Smokey pitch-black forge,

clangs with a metallic ring,

against the anvil.

Ivory, soft wool,

a constant quiet bleating,

the shears clip away.

Free-for-All Friday.

chaos like never before,

a good old bar-brawl.

When night meets the day,

blazing orange aurora,

a vivid dayspring.