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Battle of Bri’s Bane Epic Trilogy Poem 2
The COG commandos lost legions
fur and skin torn to lesions
rolling back down the slope in heroic death
Chinchillas of Goya drawing their last breath.
I reached the top after an hour of struggle
and saw Bri’s bane officers in a huddle
Emily and Brian were flying a pincer attack
Emerald from the front, Baggy from back.
My travel companions and I rushed to help
an arrow glanced Aussie and it gave out a yelp
we continued on through a battlefield royal
the chinchillas and allies staying loyal.
As Brian and Emily approached Bri’s bane
the huddle suddenly opened into acid rain
seeming to scent Brian it turned sharply
and flew screeching like a demented harpy.
I shapeshifted into a wolf and raced to Brian
distracting Bri’s bane rain as Emily leapt like a lion
Brian jumped for joy as the hats converged
soaking up the acid rain until it was purged.
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Bart threw us off at Kempton, and to tell you the truth we were glad to have escaped that ride. We thanked the horses for the lift, and raced ahead to the north. We didn’t know it at the time, but I realised Hobart was probably going to be the most southerly point of this journey.
Melton Mowbray is Cheesy Delicious
We stopped for a stilton cheese surprise lunch in Melton Mowbray, with the surprise being that there was only cheese included. It was very nice though, and we can’t complain, although to call cheese solo a surprise is a bit cheesy.
King Wolfram is a Grey Tonic
The dust sandy road seemed to take on a greyish appearance after Melton Mowbray, and Angry told us it was because Wolfram was king here.
I thought it might be literary nonsense, and was shocked that something grey and wolfish could be king. I later became flabbergasted when I saw that it could even look good when the sun lit it up.
Angry’s agony auntish information had helped make me feel happy. My grey hair also brightened up, and one almost became green.