[Soaring Feather]

Oh yes, that would be lovely. Shall you lead??

[Old Sarge]

So here at evening's call,
friends and fondness meet in the hall,
horse and palfrey bedded in the stall,
their riders not needing them this night.

Lights twinkling in candles and eyes,
Without only nightwind and hoot-owl cries,
Within this place contented sighs,
as we dance away the twilight.