Midwinter’s Passing

Having rescued my steed from the swamps of sadness, I ride gallantly back to the merry realm of Allgoodagain, where there is much fanfare and a feast with ale.

On my arrival, my beloved wench takes my well-exercised heart betwixt her wee beak, and deftly whistles a Bulgarian song of hope in an 8/9 time signature.

She then leads me into the Great Hall, which has been newly adorned with ancient tapestries, victory spoils from the Great Battle of eBay.

I show her the mosquito bites I sustained in the swamps, and she gently laughs and throws her hair every where then says something hilarious, but you kinda had to be there I think.