SCARY INMATE: welcome to the warriors prison what are you in for?
ME: flowing water, still rock. a sunlit meadow and a gentle breeze
GRUFF INMATE: she's one o' them poets! get 'er, lads!
[I swiftly dispatch them with a flurry of blows]
ME: even a delicate rose has thorns..
EFFETE INMATE: welcome to the poets prison what are you in for?
ME: what's it to ya?
WAIFISH INMATE: she's but a crude warrior! baffle her with poetry!
[I swiftly trounce them with graceful eloquence and beautiful prose]
ME: even a thorny bush has roses...
















