Words of the Constant
I shall sing of sweet darkness.
Like the wings of my helm, only meatier.
Cooked dark wing.
Fur of the crazies.
Beast or berserker?
May we meet again in Valhalla.
Thou were a worthy foe.
There's still fight left in the creature!
It will preserve the freshness of my kills.
BEAR-SERKER!
It fought bravely, but its hide is now forfeit.
No luck is needed for one who's skilled in battle.
A luxury fur bed!
A tool for valiant naps.
Wee warriors! I don't know if I like them.
Easy now!
The hive is silent.
It's a honey treasure trove!
A sweet box of wee warriors.
Where's the honey?
It's a honey treasure trove!
Pithy honey. More patience is needed.
The hive is silent.
It's a honey treasure trove!
The old crone would take my head if I dared steal a drop of honey.
Where's the honey?
It's a honey treasure trove!
Pithy honey. More patience is needed.
A fallen steed.
It seems Valhalla will not take my steed just yet.
The critter has finally learned its role.
Come along beastie.
Ancient woolen beasts!
A proud an noble beast, bonded to a proud and noble warrior.
Are you cold without your wools?
The noble steed of a mighty warrior!
My mouth's watering just looking at it...
With the stalwart beast at my side, we ride tonight!
Sounds like Aunt Hilda.
I must keep my beast fed and battle-ready.
That would suit me.
My noble steed deserves a reward.
I do love woolly things.
The show must go on!
Preparing for the stage is nearly as exhilarating as preparing for battle!
This beastie is ready for its dress rehearsal.
I must prepare!
This bell commands loyalty from the woolen beasts.
En guarde!
A bee helm, of course.