Hunting for a poet
In reply to Strong Clair (msg # 75):
"Five seasons ago, Khrosh has thrown the
seventeenth stone. Rajadeel swings his chain, I feint left,
then right, then straight. Horgan follows the feint, I move
past him as Orgash swings his hook, grazing my shoulder.
Francine jumps, clapping her hands, shaking the bells at her
ankles, three on the left foot, four on the right foot,
Cheering as he cuts me, Orgash Orgash hack and slash!
Four seasons ago, walking with Rajadeel to pick up
his boots from the cobbler Mikhail, third stall from the
Kebab vendor on street of the tanners at just past the noon
bell, Rajadeel had a design of seven nails on the toe of his
boots, marking each of our goals that season, passing Orgash
and Francine coming from the kebab stall. He is wearing his
yellow and black, as is she. He has two kebabs with green
bell pepper, she has one with onion and red pepper, Orgash
says to match her hair. He glances to one side as another orc
girl with red hair walks past carrying a basket of fish from
dockside. Hey! Orgo, that's my sister! You, Clair
are the sister carrying fish."