Barrow Fields i would ask, almost insist, on treating you kind and fair

this was it -- the fates had ordained it -- and at last, the fickle planets had aligned and proffered tachyon with his prize -- the scant and deprived form of lusca. tachyon was gobsmacked, his gaze wide and wondering -- even the gleam of the saliva that pooled in the corner of his mouth seemed starried and incandescent in quality as lusca pulled towards him in an enticing embrace.

and suddenly, the world was upturned and satan gallumped about it -- his goat legs coming trouncing down upon tachyon's dashed dreams in the form of a swift paw dealt sharply across the sensitive bridge of his muzzle. tachyon staggered, blubbering in shock that such a doe-eyed waif could be so spiteful -- truly, it was an act against his constitution from beyond the pale.

he rubbed his cheek forlornly, his gaze refusing to meet the glowing kiln-orange of lusca's own. he spoke at length, his muzzle tilted down to the earth in a melodic hum:

"once a tavern wretch crossed me twix the trail
her form pleasing, if not decidedly frail..
slattern she was she cast a spell upon me
though not before striking my phizog brutalLY

travelers should you meet this siren
heed my caution, she be a hireling
paid to string your heart bare and crush it
RUN! -- otherwise she'll take your soul and flush it"

with that he wriggled backwards, preparing himself for a second blow from this impetuous and cruel scullion!!